Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

- Disguise -

They always say that the sky is a different color when viewed from the Kidō Corps Watch Tower. It’s dark and gloomy just before the first ray of sunlight hits, scorching the clouds’ edges a deep crimson. The darkness before the light signals the start of the daily duties at the Kidō Corps, and before long the tower will be bustling with energy.

For now, all is quiet.

As you stare out across the blackened sky from the tower rooftop, you think to yourself that this is the one : the time you’ll finally get to capture the transition from darkness to light for your own eyes. 

A bell goes off in the tower. It’s a deep, hollow sound that reminds you of the ceremonial bells at home. You close your eyes for a moment, engrossed in the comfort of familiarity and embrace the cool morning breeze. Yet when you open them again, after only a brief moment, the sky has been lit by the peeking sun. You slump your shoulders and sigh.

Then, you hear the voices below.

“What do you mean, she’s in the office?! There’s nobody here!”

“B-but I saw her come in a few minutes ago…”

“Damn, she fooled us again!”

As soon as you hear the commotion coming of footsteps and shouts, you immediately crawl to your feet in the quietest way you can manage. The roof’s tiles make it rather difficult to do so. Best get away before they ―

“There she is! Quick!”

The familiar male voice from behind belongs to Sakashita Jun , your second-in-command. So they’re here already . Your lips grimace in annoyance. “Tch.” A few more shouts and footsteps approach from below as your men climb and scramble to the roof, though just as they arrive you jump off, your teeth bared anxiously.

“ Bakudō #4: Hainawa! ”

“ Bakudō #9: Hōrin! ”

“ Bakudō #9: Geki! ”

You don’t even look back as their voices call out, summoning various kidō spells against you. Beams of energy―yellow, orange, and red―shoot towards where you stood just a moment ago while you drop, the spells flying over your head and missing by an inch. “Hah! It’ll be another thousand years before you can hit me with those!” You can’t help but laugh out cheerfully at their futile efforts of catching you, most of your voice drowned out by the whipping air around you. 

Although the fall distance is quite huge, you land perfectly on the polished ground of the Seireitei in a firm crouch, barely lifting a small circle of dust around you. You stand and dust off the sleeves of your shinigami uniform, which are puffed up by the air.

“Later, nerds!” You crane your head back to blow a raspberry at the rooftop of the tower, though you doubt they can hear you from all the way down here. Their tiny heads retract from the edge, and your mind fills in the gap of what must be their curses. Jun, especially.

You make a run for it before they can even begin the chase in the vast Seireitei.

Now, you don’t consider yourself a particularly insubordinate person, but the daily tasks at the Kidō Corps are just so damn boring that you can hardly bear to even think about spending another day confined to that claustrophobic office, doing nothing but paperwork. The days have been calm in recent years, and while that’s certainly a good thing, you can’t imagine that anyone in a respectable military would not get bored of such a situation. You’ve completed all of the necessary tasks for the last two weeks! Can’t they cut you some slack for a few days?

Ever since you took over the operations of the Kidō Corps some decades ago as the Grand Kidō Chief and the Kidō Corps Commander , this farce has been something of a routine to you. You’re a hard worker―sometimes―and every once in a while you muster up the determination that you will not sit today , and lead your men on a wild goose chase across Seireitei. They’re not usually amused by this, but you’re the big boss around and there’s not much they can do but try to reel you back.

Besides , you’d argue, this is an excellent way of keeping your subordinates on their toes and practicing their skills during times of peace. You could swear that their reaction times have significantly shortened ever since you began pulling these escapes. And just look at that casting speed! You wipe a figurative tear from your eye and take a turn at a random corner.

Even though you’ve been in the Kidō Corps for a century, you don’t really keep track of where you go. In the past, you haven’t been able to make it very far beyond the perimeters of your organization before either getting caught or summoned back for legitimate duty. And since practically all of your duties only require you to be in one of two locations―the watch tower or the Senkaimon ―you actually haven’t travelled to many places in the large, circular Court. You don’t even know half of the Gotei 13 ’s Captain names! Today, however, looks like a good day for exploring . 

You glance backwards at the tower, decide that it’s still not far enough, and shunpo a few blocks in another direction to put some more distance, and then again in a different direction as you conceal your reiatsu . 

This should fool them for a little bit . You snicker at the thought, and keep running.

―

“Ah! I’m so hungry...”

After some time on the run― how long has it been, hours?! ―you’re rather out of breath, and the hunger in your stomach is finally making itself known. You clutch it and grumble softly. There’s more people on the streets now, mostly other shinigami , and if your fellows are to ask them about your whereabouts you’d be given a hard time to keep running. If only I thought of a disguise!

You are , however, wise enough to have brought a snack with you. Two rice balls, stuffed conveniently against your chest underneath your shirt. It’s definitely not to compensate for anything. Keeps them nice and warm, though.

Instead of curling up in a corner to eat your lunch depressedly, you opt for a comfortable spot on a nearby rooftop where you can bask in the sun. It’s such a lovely day outside, after all. Plus, you have a much better view up here, so if your subordinates are to approach you can easily spot them while you rest.

The tiles upon which you sit are a warm, golden color, and look rather lavish against the―pardon you―lame white paint of the walls. The majority of Seireitei is quite monochrome; the shinigami uniform is a fair testament of this, and even for yourself the only splash of color is the small knot in red string tied in the center of your obi sash.

You miss the gorgeous robes of unwed aristocracy.

“Oi, what the hell are you doing up there?!” Someone shouts in your direction just as you barely finish one of your rice balls. You turn and look down to see a man with bright red hair in a spiky ponytail. He looks irritated.

“I’m eating, can’t you see?” You reply as-a-matter-of-fact-ly, and wave your second rice ball at him. This seems to make him more angry.

“You can’t eat up there―this is the barracks, not some lunch location!” He yells back, frowning. “Get down here immediately and report your Division!” He obviously doesn’t recognize you, which is normal. Not many people in the Gotei 13 know who you are, just as you don’t know them.

“What, no!” You object, putting your rice ball away. “You have no right to question me, and I’m not even breaking any rules!” Unless, of course, there’s a written rule in the shinigami handbook that clearly states ‘ one is not to eat while on top of building roofs ’. You haven’t read the thing―does it even exist?

He bares his teeth and rolls up his sleeves threateningly. “Don’t make me drag you down by force, you brat!”

Your temper rises. “Who are you calling a brat?!” You hop to your feet, shaking a fist agitatedly. “You chili-pineapple-head!”

“What’d ya call me?!” He hisses, then proceeds to jump onto the same roof as you.

Okay, maybe provoking him was a bad idea… Although there’s no weapon on him, as per the legitimate non-wartime regulations of the Gotei 13, he’s definitely advancing with the intent of a fight. 

“ Bakudō #21: Sekienton! ” You immediately call, drawing on your spiritual power and placing your hands on the beam of the roof. Instantly, a large puff of red smoke erupts from your hands, engulfing the area. 

The man shouts incoherently, and you hear him tripping and falling, followed by the sound of something dropping to the ground and breaking. You glance down, and see a few shattered tiles on the floor. Shit! “Look what you did!” He growls despite his coughs, but sounds rather nervous himself.

“Hey, you’re the one who fell on it!” You retort through the smoke, covering your face. At the same time, you jump back and off the beam, landing on the roof of the building across. “Kiss my butt, red-pepper-man!” You taunt, and hop to the ground before continuing running. 

Behind you, you hear the man’s voice grow increasingly small as you turn a corner, “Hey, get back here!” You choose to blissfully ignore him and keep going forward.

Unfortunately, you can’t afford to stop moving; even with that tiny spell you’d cast, you’re sure that your searching subordinates will be able to locate you, even though you’ve once again concealed your spiritual pressure. In fact, you can already sense their presence gathering this way.

You glance behind you as you run, and not seeing nor hearing them anymore you breathe out in slight relief. “Good, I think I’ve lost hi―ouch!” As you mumble to yourself, you fail to notice someone exiting a door and run into them at full speed! The force of the impact makes you bounce off the person, and you hiss as the solid floor kisses your derriere. “Ow, ow, ow, ow!”

A mere grunt comes from the person along with the sound of a sandal rub against the ground tile. “Watch where you’re going.” The voice is distinctly male, deep and stoic. 

You look up to see a man, steel eyes cold and reflecting the slightest hint of annoyance mixed with surprise. He’s tall, slim, and elegantly beautiful, with long black hair and dressed in shinigami garb without a single wrinkle. Save for the one you just made, perhaps. You can’t help but gape your mouth in admiration: what a handsome man!

Feeling his gaze grow somewhat impatient, you’re reminded of your current situation. “I’m so sorry, mister!” You blurt out, quickly hopping to your feet and bowing in apology. “I was in a hurry and wasn’t looking―please forgive me!” As opposed to your attitude towards the red-haired man earlier, you put on your best behavior as you’re at fault here. Besides, that other guy did pick on you first. Better to act nice than not so you can get off the hook easier!

The man seems to completely ignore your apologies, and narrows his eyes slightly as he scrutinizes your face. “I have never seen you around before; which Division are you from?”

You almost sweatdrop. Why are these people all asking the same question? “Well, that’s…” You don’t really want to tell him you’re from the Kidō Corps, in case he sees you in the future again and just goes straight to report you to your organization. Somehow he looks like the type to do that… Besides, you’re not technically in any such Division that he must surely mean… 

“There!” 

You suddenly hear the slightly distant voice of Arakawa Kensuke , one of your subordinates, from behind. You flinch and turn your head in shock to the source, but see no one. 

“I heard her voice over there!”

Crap! You quickly turn back to the stranger, whose expression harbors no change whatsoever. “Sorry, gotta go!” You say, preparing to run off again, but before that, “Ah, if anyone asks you about me, just say you have no idea! Bye now!” With a hopeful grin, you glance back at him, and shunpo into the distance, disappearing within seconds.

Somehow , you know he’s going to tattle on you.

He looks like the type, anyway.

Chapter Text

- Excellence -

Kuchiki Byakuya doesn’t know what’s gotten into him.

On a typical day, he’s usually quite alert and awake throughout the hours. But for some reason unknown to him, he’s been feeling slightly drowsy since morning, and hasn’t been able to retain his usual level of focus. His handwriting feels a little sloppy, his ink is grainy, and the normally neatly-stacked paperwork has corners poking out. Even Abarai Renji seems to have noticed, and brings him a cup of tea upon return from earlier tasks.

“May I take these reports, Captain? I’ve finished the ones you gave me yesterday,” Renji asks, quickly supplementing himself with a reason for his request. 

Of course, he would never outrightedly ask whether his superior was feeling under the weather―the mere assumption of him being unwell is an offense―but he would do what’s necessary to take some load off of his Captain’s shoulders. It’s what's expected of him, after all.

Byakuya nods, “Very well.” Certainly, he understands and is rather pleased with the Lieutenant’s actions, and the latter looks relieved. 

He barely pauses signing the papers on the desk before him as Renji exits, and finally takes a sip of the tea. It’s a little too hot, which makes the taste slightly more bitter than what Byakuya would prefer, but coming out of a commoner’s hands this is already quite decent.

He narrows his eyes. A commoner … 

He’s not discriminatory against them, although certainly pays less attention to their behavior and is much less critical. They just don’t live in the same world as nobles such as he, and many things cannot be changed because of that difference in nature and status. A quiet sigh leaves him.

Was Hisana different?

At all?

The silence in the room suddenly becomes solemn, and Byakuya feels his eyelids get heavier. His thoughts leave his mind exhausted, and it’s reflected in the rest of his body too. Seeing that there are but two stacks of paperwork remaining on his desk―less than usual, thanks to Renji―he stops resisting the urge to sleep. 

Removing the kenseikan from his hair and scarf from his neck, the man vacates a small area on the desk and rests his head gently against his crossed arms. He doesn’t do this often, if ever at all, so this setup will have to do. He doesn’t plan on staying asleep for long, either. 

His eyes flutter shut, and slumber soon takes over.

Byakuya dreams.

-

He strolls in the hallways that surround the beautiful, carefully-crafted gardens in the Kuchiki Manor . The sunlight on the lush grass turns the landscape particularly vibrant, contrasting the blooming flowers to create a vivid scenery. The red maple leaves, fluttering in the breeze, look especially elegant. He catches one delicately between thumb and forefinger, then watches as it flies away.

But it’s summer.

The landscape shifts, and snow covers everything. Heavy white flakes dance in tandem with the slender maple leaves, and he is mesmerized.

A light laugh sounds next to him. Feminine and cheerful. Captivating. 

He turns.

-

Byakuya wakes, dark eyes blinking away the sleep. He slowly lifts his head, attempting to find purchase from his strange, fleeting dream, but discovers none. For a brief moment, Hisana is forgotten, but he soon finds himself wondering if that woman was her. 

No, in all his previous dreams of her, she always showed her face unabashedly. Smiled at him warmly.

Those were the days he’d missed her most―his mind couldn’t bear to accept being apart forever.

Such dreams have become more and more scarce over the years. And no matter how much he tries to deny it, she has long since begun to slip from his mind, her presence forgotten by his clan.

They have good reason to; he has no excuse. Byakuya can’t help but feel like he’s betraying her.

Dismissing the thoughts forcefully, he glances at the clock on the wall. It seems that he’s only been asleep for twenty or so minutes, though it’s past noon and his stomach feels empty. His bento is in the communal kitchen of the 6th Division Barracks, and he has to go get it himself.

As he reaches for his kenseikan, Byakuya is displeased to see a few black specks on the otherwise pristine headpiece. Ink? He’s disappointed with himself, making a careless mess like this. Wiping it with his finger doesn’t do anything; the ink has dried.

He sighs, but then remembers that there are some cleaning supplies in the storage room behind. He would have to go outside first, though there was no way he could wear the headpiece now that it’s dirty.

He forsakes the scarf as well, and gets up, walking to the exit.

He didn’t expect to be literally run into the moment he steps out of the building, though thanks to quick reflexes keeps his balance despite the suddenness. His men are usually better-behaved than this. Whoever it is must have a death wish.

It’s a girl, it seems, though Byakuya is distinctly aware of never having seen the woman before. She appears young, perhaps some years younger than himself. A large bead of a pale greenish hue dangles from a lock of her hair. Her garb is unfamiliar―a wide obi at her waist instead of the typical sash, and outside of her shinigami uniform is a black cloak of sorts. Her smaller frame is rather crumpled by her fall, and the disheveled hair makes her look positively ridiculous. Otherwise, there’s something strange about her that he’s not quite sure of, or rather, cares nothing for. 

The girl stands, and despite her form is surprisingly tall. She apologizes profusely after staring at him rather brazenly, and Byakuya’s eyes narrow. Does she not know who he is? Shocking, truly. 

Although to argue in her right, he’s not wearing anything identifiable―his noble accessories and his haori are left in the office.

“ I have never seen you around before; which Division are you from? ” He demands. A reprimand is well-deserved, but Byakuya himself has no authority to punish another Division’s subordinate; her superior will have to do it themselves. He is above certain that she isn’t from his squad.

The woman appears to find his question rather difficult to answer, and stumbles suspiciously for a reply. Certainly she must understand the intent behind his inquiry, otherwise would not be making such a fool of herself.

Conveniently, just before Byakuya could pull out his authoritative tone, people talking from the next corridor catches both their attention. The woman visibly flinches, and quickly excuses herself. Before he could say anything in reaction however, she disappears from view at a speed even he could find remarkable, and can’t help but look in her trail. He hardly expected someone so unaware to be this practiced in the art of footwork, or in this case, escape.

An officer of the Onmitsukidō , perhaps?

There’s something peculiar about her behavior. Something that makes him feel… nostalgic.

His thoughts are intruded on by the male voices approaching. A small group of them―four figures―appear from the other end of the street and run in his direction. Byakuya recognizes their attire immediately: black uniform, plain sandals, and a white headwrap and mask that drape past their loins.

The Kidō Corps.

They slow down as they get closer, saluting him respectfully. “Captain Kuchiki,” the one in front greets, presumably their leader. 

Even they are able to identify him; that woman must have been living under a rock.

Byakuya acknowledges them. “What business does the Kidō Corps have with my Division?” He then asks, genuinely perplexed but not showing it. He can’t recall assigning any of his men to duties pertaining to this rather elusive organization. Perhaps it has something to do with the strange girl, seeing as she ran away as soon as they were heard.

The leader pauses. “Please pardon my bluntness, sir. Have you seen a woman around here―about this tall,” he goes on to roughly describe her appearance, and Byakuya feels that he was right.

But what could she have done to motivate these men to pursue her until here? Perhaps he’s imagining things, but the hooded man sounded… embarrassed? Actually, scratch that; he’s not very interested, Byakuya convinces himself.

“Yes,” he answers plainly. “She went that way, and specifically instructed me to not tell if she’s to be asked for.” He points in the direction that the woman went, though she is now long gone. 

He may not be interested in what affairs she may have with these people, but seeing that they’re in quite a hurry to find her, Byakuya feels obligated to prepare for the worst-case scenario that she may be an offender on the run. Catching her, however, is really none of his business, and it even appears that these men wish to keep it that way. Their widened eyes suggest to a gesture that he’s seen Renji perform many times: a facepalm.

“You have our deepest gratitude, Captain Kuchiki. Please excuse us,” the man replies, sounding genuinely relieved. 

Byakuya allows them to take their leave and continue their chase, presumably, and as he steps forward his sandal makes contact with something. He looks down to see a paper pouch. He bends over to pick it up, and in the process reveals yet another item underneath. 

Inside the pouch is a single, ordinary rice ball, but his attention is caught by the small wooden badge on the floor.

It has the inked carving of a circle with three horns pointing outwards. If he’s not mistaken, it’s the insignia of the Kidō Corps. 

Strange , none of the four men have stepped this close to him; it must have fallen out from the earlier girl’s pockets when she ran into him.

Inevitably curious, Byakuya turns the badge over.

Inscribed in black ink is your first name.

Chapter Text

- Attachment -

You can’t believe yourself.

For the third time this morning, you pat yourself thoroughly for any sign of your Kidō Corps identification badge, but find no purchase. You’re near certain that you had it with you the previous day, when you ditched work to goof off in Seireitei. 

Your frustration doesn’t go unnoticed by the other members of your supervision, or lack thereof.

“Something the matter, Commander?” Jun asks, a sickeningly sweet smile on his lips as he looks up from his paperwork. Though sweet, to you it sounded smug in reminiscence of your men’s success in capturing you. 

Nothing wrong with the lad though; handsome, kind, and ever-so helpful around the office. His gentle behavior can be a little overwhelming, though. That smile is also almost plastered to his delicate face, which freaks you out sometimes. However, you do like and trust him very much, and he’s certainly proven himself quite capable in Kidō: his expertise in Bakudō balances out quite well your own proficiency with Hadō . His skills are still not quick enough to catch you , though.

“Uh,” you begin, searching the drawers of your large desk again. It’s somewhat embarrassing to admit that you’ve lost such a valuable piece of identification, but you can confide in Jun. “I can’t find my badge.” As you speak, you reach the conclusion that you must have lost it outside the building. Maybe you dropped it while you were eating lunch on the roof...

His eyebrows are raised beneath his bangs. “That’s no good, Commander. Perhaps it’s misplaced in the office somewhere?” He gets up from his seat and readies to search about the room, but you stop him with a hand.

“I think… I have an idea of where it might be,” you tell him, furrowing your brows slightly. 

Maybe you can trap the red-haired man from yesterday and interrogate him about your badge. Or maybe the man you saw afterwards. Compared to the former, he definitely reminds you of the type to bring the badge back to the Kidō Corps if only just to see you get disciplined. 

Tough luck with that one.

Jun merely blinks at you, and then creases his eyes as he continues smiling understandingly. Sometimes he’s too smart for his own good.

When it’s almost lunchtime, you finish your food quickly, and take an opportunity to jump out the tower window when Jun isn’t looking. You don’t glance back, and miss the slight shake of his head as he turns back to your empty desk.

It takes you some time to locate the area where you’d first had human interaction yesterday, especially since you have no idea which Division it was. You only find it when you peek around the corner and spot the red-haired man talking to a few others. He looks to be… giving orders? A few of the men leave the vicinity to carry out whatever task they’re given, but he’s still got a small entourage and you curse to yourself. I’ll have to wait until they’re gone, too .

Sneakily, you follow him and his friends, hiding behind corners and pillars when their faces are even slightly turned your way. If only you could…

A voice calls your name from behind, and you freeze before turning your head to the source with wide eyes. 

To your surprise, it’s the handsome dark-haired man you ran into, standing in the clearing. He’s looking straight at you, leaving no room for you to guess that he’s addressing anyone else. 

The midday sun casts a divine golden splash to his fair cheekbones, and for a second it’s as if you’re blinded by his radiance. In that instant, you feel something tug at the back of your mind―is it familiarity? Nostalgia? Déjà vu?

His silence dispels all illusion.

Impossible.

“H-how do you know my name?” You attempt, furrowing your brows. That’s not good .

“The Kidō Corps,” the man reaches into his sleeve, and pulls out a small badge. Your badge. Of course . “This is what you’re looking for?” His emotionless tone almost sounds taunting, and his question is more of a statement. 

You can’t say you like his attitude very much, and would rather be out of here sooner than later.

“That would be me. Can I please have that back?” You get straight to the point, though even before you asked you had a feeling that it won’t be as easy as that.

“No.”

But you’re prepared, and as soon as the word leaves his mouth your feet shuffle, using shunpo to dash to his side and swiping at his hand. 

Don’t mind if I do!

The man, however, surprises you by retracting his hand juuust before your fingers touch it. Your eyes widen, but you’re not disheartened, and you lift your hand, open your mouth to cha―

“ Bakudō #1: Sai .”

Even before you can speak, your arms twist and fold against your will with your wrists bound together behind your back. You nearly trip on your own feet from the sudden action. “Hey! Not fair!” You yelp, though keeping your voice relatively low so as not to attract unnecessary attention from the others. 

That red-head-and-company can’t be far from here, and honestly the situation would be much less embarrassing without them. You hunch over, trying to break out of the spell, but the man’s control is quite substantial, if you may say so yourself.

How did he predict your actions, anyway?

“You used shunpo to get away yesterday,” the man says placidly, as if reading your mind―or your expression. “And you’re in the Kidō Corps; this is perfectly fair.”

You grind your teeth in annoyance. You had no idea he’d try you like this! The nerve! “Well thanks for being generous enough to tell me my mistakes.” 

The man doesn’t react to your words, and with his fingers pointed at you to maintain the spell he seems to be waiting. Somehow his handsome face isn’t so pleasing to look at anymore.

You sigh and relent. It’s not like you could fight him here, anyway―though you reckon he’s lucky that you’re feeling civil. He also looks like he might have a few tricks up his sleeve. “Look, you have no use for the badge, right? Just give it back and I’ll be on my way.” And I’m definitely avoiding this place from now on .

His head tilts half a degree, the most movement in his composure you’ve seen yet. You take the tiny gesture as one of inquiry, or perhaps curiosity. “And why should I?”

Despite your bound wrists, your shoulders slump in defeat. “What do you want, then?”

There’s a pause, and for a second you’re worried that he’s simply dead set on not returning your badge. Just as you’re beginning to contemplate using brute force to retrieve it, he looks away and into the distance. “Renji says you broke something here yesterday. Repair it, and you will have it back.”

You’re dumbfounded, even more so by his totally neutral expression. “That’s it?” Why not just fix it yourself? You stop yourself before you can spew it out, lest he changes his mind and gives you some impossible task instead. 

Wait a minute , has he just been waiting for you to show up until now? Was he going to never repair it if you never came back? And on that note, he didn’t even report your actions to the Kidō Corps, contrary to what you first believed. 

Something’s fishy… but you don’t know what it is. 

“Uh, I mean, I don’t remember what I broke and where…” Nonetheless, you’re not about to contend the fact that the red-head , presumably this ‘Renji’, broke the tiles and not you. It would just bring additional trouble.

“Roof tiles, from the building behind this one.” The man puts your badge away and lowers his other hand, and you immediately take the opportunity to break free of his spell. He stares at you motionlessly, icy gaze challenging you to make a move. 

You’re not that dumb; you know by now he’s not to be underestimated. 

There’s a brief moment resembling a staredown, and once again you relent.

“Fine―I’ll see what I can do.” Before he turns however, you cross your arms and raise a brow. “How am I going to make sure you see my repairs? What’s your name, anyway?” You ask, smiling in an attempt to be friendly. 

It doesn’t seem to have any effect on him, as he simply looks at you and walks away.

You stand in place and pout. Rude .

Chapter Text

- Change -

It’s the next day when Byakuya sees you again. 

As with the previous days, he keeps his noble accessories away when anticipating your arrival. Why? He's not entirely sure. Agreeably, you’re certainly physically very attractive, but that can’t be enough reason to alter his behavior in the slightest bit.

Perhaps it’s something about the way you addressed him so casually that allows him a brief glimpse of a life on the other side―a tiny universe where he's not nobility.

A universe that only Hisana was able to make him see. Yearn for. 

Yes, the normalcy of it all makes him feel nostalgic. But the past cannot be returned to.

And that’s the reason it’s so cherished.

The sound of clattering outside his office is abrupt, and Byakuya glances out the window. It seems to be a view of the wrong side, and he quietly slides his door open to look in the other direction.

There you are, under the eaves of the building across the clearing with your back towards him as you crawl to your feet in recovery from your fall. The shattered mess of broken ceramics next to you says it all about the situation, and you grumble something inaudible while rubbing your bum.

It’s a sight he never expected―nor wanted―to see.

As you reach high above your head in a second attempt to move a tile back in its place, Byakuya has an epiphany―you’re so tall because of the sandals you wear: tengu geta , wooden with a large single prong in the middle, as opposed to the thin, straw sandals of everyone else. Unconventional, and he can’t help but think that he has seen them somewhere…

“What are you doing?” He asks, catching your attention instantly.

You nearly drop what you’re holding from his sudden voice, and sigh in relief once you catch it soundly after juggling it around.

“I’m replacing the broken tiles!” You reply with high spirits, and quickly jam the darned thing against the fresh cement you’d applied earlier―you’re just about finished. You’d found the replacements in the Kidō Corps storage room, and are quite pleased with how efficient you have been.

There’s a pause of silence, and you turn back to the man questioningly, finding him staring up at where the repairs have been done.

“The color isn’t the same,” he points out flatly without averting his gaze. 

It’s true―the ones you’ve brought from the Kidō Corps are distinctly brown against the orange tone of the array of local tiles. It’s rather ugly, to be honest.

You shrug your shoulders. “That’s the best I could find!” You then scratch your neck sheepishly. “I guess we just have different color schemes?” 

The man looks unconvinced, so you attempt your way with a friendly smile.

He finally sighs. “It will do for now.” At your expectant stare, he turns his gaze down at the pile of fragments around you.

You groan exasperatedly. “Come on, I’ve put so much work into it already!” But his gaze is decidedly unmoved, so you pout and roll your eyes, throw a mental tantrum, and pick up your supplies and clean up the trash. “Happy?”

You catch the slightest sign of relaxation in his brow muscles. What a child .

As he reaches into his sleeve, you practically dash to him, halting before another potential collision. Expectantly, he shows barely any acknowledgement to your approach in the form of a glance, and holds out your badge. You reach for it tentatively, and once certain he’s not pulling some trick, you take it and stuff it securely under your obi.

“Don’t be causing any more trouble around here.”

“I won’t,” you reply with a tiny smile. Then, you reach into your sleeve and pull out a small item wrapped in thin, colorful paper. It sits in the center of your palm effortlessly as you reach it out to him. “My mother says that men who don’t smile need something sweet to eat―so have a candy.”

Impassive steel eyes stare at you blankly in silence, and you almost feel like a fool under his scrutiny. Maybe he thinks you're mocking him or something, but there's no way of telling, what with that totally expressionless expression of his. Yet instead of backing down, you retract your smile and hold your chin high, meeting his stone gaze with a vigor of your own.

The scene would be laughable, if not for the soundless tension of a battle of sheer will.

Honestly, you don’t even know what has overcome you to partake in something as silly as a staring contest.

After what felt like a really long time, the man before you shifts his gaze to your hand, and reaches out his own next to yours. Like he doesn’t want to risk physical contact. Avoiding the plague or the sort.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

Is this a joke?

Almost in robotic fashion, you turn your hand and let the candy roll into his palm. It’s as though you’ve reached some sort of mental mutual agreement, and you consider that perhaps you’ve achieved a new level of spiritual ascension. Zen. 

The whole act is absolutely theatrical.

A bit uncomprehending but nonetheless pleased, you allow a pompous grin to your lips. “Smile more, mister. Goodbye, now.”

And just like that, you disappear from his sight.

―

Byakuya feels a little lightheaded. What in the world just occurred before his eyes? Whatever it was, it’s making him nauseous. He can hardly believe himself.

How could he, Kuchiki Byakuya , of all people, fall victim to the childish trick of a mere commoner? Bend him to her whim over a simple phrase.

Smile more .

He brings his hand to his lips, barely brushing the fingertips against them. Can he?

His memory briefly flashes back to Hisana. Not that she had ever uttered anything remotely close to those words―how could she dare? Instead, it was a lingering sentiment that he would have liked to see more of her brilliant smile throughout the days they had spent together. 

And neither could he voice his wish to her.

Thinking back, he would be delusional to disbelieve that they had grown apart during their marriage. No doubt they loved each other until her passing, but there were some things even love couldn’t make up for.

Byakuya shuts his eyes.

The Kuchiki Clan was a cage for her. A conservatory to house a wild flower plucked from the meadows. Beautiful, but wilting from the moment she left it.

But he refuses to believe that the clan was right about her. Is right.

When he glances down at the small candy in his hand, for a moment the thoughts leave him. The wrapper has colorful patterns that distract his mind and, though meaningless, allude to the prospect that the contents could be quite tasty.

He doesn’t intend on eating it, as sweets aren’t his preferred snacks. Yet the gift tickles something in his chest. It is not unpleasant.

Byakuya slides the candy away in his sleeve, and strolls over to where the roof repairs have been made.

The fix is rather crude, but acceptable for the time being. Additional work will have to be done , he muses, resisting the juvenile urge to grimace at the hideous mismatch of colors.

A gentle breeze brushes his silky hair, and from the corner of his eye a light shadow flutters by. Byakuya catches it delicately between his fingers, and déjà vu strikes him through the haze.

It’s a slender maple leaf.

―

“Commander,” Jun greets, returning to your office from a task you’d assigned him earlier. 

Ever since your previous escape, your men have been much more vigilant to make sure you don’t run off, so for the past few days―or has it been weeks?―you’ve been sitting around the office to work on routine tasks and paperwork. For anything that required supervision, your Vice-Commander was deployed on your orders. You’ve just about had enough fun running around, too.

You look up from your desk to meet his gaze, and raise a brow at his somewhat concerned look. Your mouth opens to ask about it, but as he steps aside to make way at the entrance your expression hardens.

In the doorway is a man dressed in black and dark blue garbs. His tengu geta make it so that his head almost touches the top of the entrance, and his tall eboshi hat certainly isn’t going to make it through without him bowing his head. He wears an approachable but passive expression, lips adorned with a vertical scar on the right side, giving his smile a rather sinister touch despite his otherwise benign features.

“ Shinobu ,” you greet him, voice firm yet with a hint of surprise. You definitely are not expecting his visit.

“ Milady ,” Shinobu bows respectfully, not stepping into the room. “Lord Sōbei requests your audience at the manor this evening.”

Chapter Text

- War -

Normally, your evenings are simply spent at the barracks of the Kidō Corps, and even on your off-days you’re typically rested there as opposed to home. It’s not that you hate the place or your family or anything like that―in fact, it’s quite the contrary: you love your family and the estate. 

Rather, there is a great sense of shame―the worst kind: undeserved―that washes over you each time you return. The way that your kinsmen look at you and speak of you.

You hate it.

However, if it’s the Clan Head personally requesting you to return and sending his right-hand man to come fetch you, you can’t turn him down.

It’s part of your duty as a Lady of the Tamahashi Clan , one of the Great Noble Houses.

Without the slightest hint of resistance from you, Shinobu leads you out of the barracks and onto a small carriage that’s lifted by four men in identical uniforms. The bright red of the carriage beams contrasts beautifully against the heavy white silk that’s draped around the sitting box, and chimes along the top ring crisply as the carriage lifts off the ground and begins moving. No words are exchanged during the trip, and respectfully so as to not disturb your thoughts, which are preoccupied with guesses as to the reason for such a formal summoning.

You've tried to question Shinobu upon meeting at your office, but he’s managed to keep his lips sealed tight. That act alone meant something. A personal matter . A shiver runs down your spine at the thought.

But you can’t run forever.

―

It’s not often that you find yourself at home.

Not ever since that event, anyway.

First is the change in scenery. From the crowded buildings of the military supercenter to broad, empty streets lined with noble estates, a breeze of silence brushes past.

Then comes the bridge, carved from pristine white rock and without a speck of dust to be seen. A shallow stream runs below it, its laminar flow soothing against your ears. The streets along are inhabited by the vassal families that serve your clan, or by other lesser nobles that have moved here and there throughout the times. 

The estate can be seen once the bridge is crossed, marking the entrance onto Tamahashi property. Other than the bridge, the only path to or from the manor is a tiny pier on the other side of the land, serving as a backdoor of sorts on the waterway. 

The land can be thought of as an island of sorts, surrounded by only a few narrow currents that divide the earth and provide clean water for the nearby communities. The Rukongai districts that are governed by these streams enjoy the simple luxury of having such a resource, as well as the security that comes from the enforcement of the Tamahashi Clan and its vassals.

―

Your clan can be largely described as a warlord family, with the Tamahashi Main House in the center and governing it. 

It also holds a not-so-secret secret.

It is entirely composed of oni descent.

―

At the front gate, four uniformed men carrying naginata polearms stand guard. As you exit the carriage with your chin held high, they salute you with respectful bows, and you acknowledge them with a wave of your hand. You step inside, with Shinobu following closely behind.

Carefully pruned trees and shrubs line the path leading to the genkan entryway, paved by large, flat stepping stones. Stone lamps are placed at equal distance along the path to guide the way when darkness falls, and already the sun is beginning to set. It’s quite a lovely sight, as you recall.

Now that you think back about it, you really do miss it here.

“Dinner will be served shortly; would you like to refresh yourself before the meal, milady?” Shinobu asks thoughtfully, as awaiting handmaidens appear out of nowhere along your path to provide you with warm towels and remove your haori overcoat. Your shoes are left by the steps, reminded only by the taller-than-usual ceilings above your head.

“No need, just take me to him,” you reply, referring to the Head, and hand your used towel to the last servant in line as they excuse themselves. Better get it done and over with . If you’re lucky, you might be able to return to your duties by the next day. You pause in your tracks and glance back at Shinobu. “You know where he is, I’m sure.”

The man looks at you softly with a glint of knowingness in his eyes. Compassion. Pity . He averts his gaze just as it meets yours. “Of course. Lord Sōbei is in the East Garden―please follow me.”

Although his instruction is to follow, you’re the one taking the lead as you’re still very much familiar with the environment. You stride through nostalgic corridors, past open and closed doors, and finally arrive at the East Garden.

There’s a small pond to the side, surrounded by rocks and small, pampered trees. Flowering shrubbery line the walls, and lush grass is everywhere else. Wooden boards serve as steps to a small landing next to the pond, where a tall silhouette stands, back facing you. You recognize it instantly.

“Lord Sōbei,” Shinobu greets, bowing.

Said man turns, his navy haori fluttering in a timely breeze. Long hair is pulled into a loose ponytail at the base of his neck and decorated with a pale green jade clasp. Bangs frame a handsome, gentle face, and a few stray hairs dancing in the wind gives him a casual flair. Dark eyes smile at you tenderly from behind circular frames, and removing one of his hands from his thin bamboo cane he extends it to you. 

“ Brother ,” you greet, bowing slightly as well.

“My dear sister,” Sōbei says, ushering you to approach, and you do. “There’s no need for such formalities between you and me.” The two of you embrace, and he places a hand on your shoulder in comfort. The warmth reminds you of your days of youth. Days that are long gone. “How have you been? It’s been so long since you’ve returned here.” 

Almost a year, perhaps...

“Decent. Work is work,” you reply, and can’t help but smile up at him, eyes crinkling. You’re always glad to see your brother is in good shape. “And how is home? I haven’t seen mother yet.” 

Even though your father passed away when you were younger, your mother has proven herself more than capable of raising their two children among the expectations of nobility. Both you and your brother are very close to her.

Sōbei nods approvingly. “Everything is quite alright―nothing has really changed,” though for some reason you’re doubting that statement. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here. “And mother is doing well, too. She must be guiding the servants to arrange your room for you right now, but we will see her at dinner.”

It’s expected that you’ll be spending the night―it’s rather unacceptable to send you back to the Kidō Corps barracks at this hour. Plus, now that you’re actually here, you’re quite looking forward to sharing some casual moments with your family. You exchange a few more words of chitchat before bringing up the topic that’s been on your mind the whole time: the reason why he’s summoned you’re here.

Playfully, Sōbei places a finger over his lips. “Not so eager, sister. Let’s leave the business talk until after dinner, yes?” 

Business talk? So he does mean business. Your brows furrow slightly as a heavy feeling finds itself in your heart, but there’s no use prying; your brother is both of higher status and higher discipline when it comes to secrets. It’s the way he’s trained―the way you were both trained. In the end, you only pout and nod in defeat, trying to put the thoughts behind yourself as you both resume talking about his new renovation plans for the gardens.

When time comes for dinner, the two of you move to the dining room. Although by typical standards there is no such thing as a room designated for eating, your family has been enjoying meals in one room long enough for it to be the norm. Your mother is already there, ordering the servants to place everything in just the right place. She embraces you tightly when you show up.

“It’s lovely to see you, dear.” Her smile is radiant, more so than usual. 

Your mother, Lady Yuna, looks beautiful as ever. Elegance is her language of choice, and is on full display with every little gesture―even as she tucks away a strand of loose hair. You’d consider yourself lucky to inherit even a fraction of her grace.

The sun sets and dinner is served, and you’re not surprised to see your favorite dishes set out. The attention that you receive in conversation with your family brings joy to your heart, and is especially appreciated seeing as you don’t return as often anymore. Both sides update each other on the state of affairs both in the home and outside, with your mother chittering particularly much about your extended family. 

The Tamahashi Clan is quite large, with numerous branch houses and vassal houses contained under its wing. In the back of your mind, you find it a bit strange for her to bring up the relatives and vassals over a rare dinner together, yet before you can inquire about it she had retreated from the room along with the meal set. 

The room’s population is suddenly reduced to you and your brother.

Sōbei smiles at you. Candlelight reflects from his glasses and you can’t see his eyes, so you shuffle from your seat on the floor from the side of the room to the center. From there, you see that the smile hasn’t quite reached his gaze.

“Are you enjoying your time in the Kidō Corps, sister?”

You are a bit taken aback by this; is it not obvious in the very fact that you’re happy spending your days in the barracks? You stare up at him, cautious. “Of course.”

“Do you not sometimes wish to… return home?” Before you can respond he shrugs his shoulders. “The life of nobility?”

Certainly, many would call you crazy for leaving behind such a comfortable and lavish environment to devote nearly all of your days to training, hard work, and potential danger. But you’re a free spirit with a destiny elsewhere that you’ll gladly fulfill.

That’s how women of the Tamahashi Clan have always been.

“The Kidō Corps suits me.” There’s a different kind of comfort in knowing that you’re your own boss, even if you’re a slacker sometimes. You feel the conversation is a bit odd, and add, “I’m fulfilling my purpose there.”

The smile on Sōbei’s face appears almost plastered. “You’re a Tamahashi Lady―you have purpose here, too.”

Is he trying to talk you into retirement? There’s no crisis at home, and you’re still so young and arguably at the peak of your career; it doesn’t make sense. Perplexion must be written on your face―you’ve never been very good at concealing your emotions in his eyes―because Sōbei immediately continues, “All ladies of your status have purpose―for the good of the clan.”

It all suddenly clicks together. The personal invitation; the glee in your mother’s smile; the talk of extended family and the clan… You grimace. 

“You want me to marry ? Now?”

The last time marriage was brought up as a topic to you, it didn’t go so well, and you definitely don’t want to experience the humiliation a second time. The mere memories make you stick out your tongue. Though you’ve never outright said it, you’re pretty certain you’ve conveyed your position on the matter. No wonder everyone is being so careful today.

Sōbei’s expression relaxes, as if relieved at your rather mild reaction. You almost roll your eyes―you’re casual, not immature ―but you suppose it could have been a lot worse. So, you wave your hand in dismissal. “No thanks.”

“But you didn’t even hear my pitch yet.” Your brother practically whines, and it both sounds and looks uncomfortable from his position. The second-hand embarrassment gives you goosebumps. As if relishing in your discomfort, he leans forward in his seat, though it does nothing but look theatrical given the distance between you. “Don’t you at least want to know who it is?”

Your brows furrow slightly. Something feels off and you don’t like where this is going. “I’m not interested. Can I leave now?” You stand from your seat and turn to the doorway.

Sōbei raises an eyebrow. “Even if it’s Kuchiki Byakuya? ”

You stop in your tracks and look at him incredulously. Annoyance bubbles under your skin. Is he mocking you? The mere name has been taboo for ages. Your brother looks so nonchalant in his seat, and you narrow your eyes, yet you can’t see through him. “Are you joking? ”

“Would I joke about this kind of thing?” He says. You really can’t tell, actually, so he continues, “It’s not a joke, sister. We have been discussing the matter, and this is for the best of both our clans.”

A sneer leaves you. “And how did that work out the last time?” You don’t even want to be reminded of the whole farce, let alone your brother. He doesn’t react however, but the mood is spoiled and you’re tired and just want to return to the barracks right this instant. Nothing of significance has come out of this trip, after all. “Tell mother I won’t be staying the night. Now, excuse me,” you say as you begin towards the exit.

Just then, the panes that make up the sidewalls slide aside, and as you turn you’re met with four uniform-garbed men with their palms facing you as they’re revealed. Your eyes widen in confusion. What the hell? A split-second of hesitation is all it takes for bright ropes of spiritual energy to shoot out and wrap around your body. “What is the meaning of this?!” You steady your footing despite the impact, and your mind instantly clears.

Who do they take you for?

Yet despite your efforts to summon your own spiritual energy, your limbs are weak and your breath is hitched. The four men pull the ropes taut, forcing you down on your knees while you struggle against the bindings. Just when you feel the slightest give in the ropes, more guards enter the room to fortify the spell, making escape impossible in your condition. Disbelief and frustration floods over you.

Kidō runs in your blood. It is the livelihood of your clan.

Your thoughts are plagued by your incompetence; you are the strongest in your generation! No way these guards can land a single finger on you… Your gaze hardens.

The food! It was all a trap. 

“How low of you!” You hiss indignantly across the room, but as usual your brother is unbothered by your outburst.  

“I can’t have you going off and putting years of work to waste. This arrangement with the Kuchiki Clan must go through.” Sōbei stands and walks to you, posture authoritative. He is no longer addressing you as your sibling, but as the Head of Clan.

Years of work? You can’t fathom what he means. Don’t want to. Your mind is elsewhere. “Even after what he’s done to me? To us?” You plead empathy with Sōbei―he knows better than anyone else of your spite―but deep in your heart you know it’s no use. Just as well as he knows you, you know him. 

After all that you’ve both gone through, he is the last person in the world you would ever doubt, yet here you are. Betrayed.

The softness in his eyes gives you a glimpse of false hope. “What have you lost? Your pride? Has it all gotten to your head, sister?” His tone is gentle, but your heart sinks at his frigid words. 

Indeed, what’s the ego of one individual before the interest of the entire clan? He will always choose the clan over his sister―himself, even. You can’t say you blame him, though; had you been in his place, perhaps you would have made the same decision. 

But you won’t agree to it―your honor does not allow you to bend to such an outrageous affair!

“If you think I’ll just give you a nod, you’re dead wrong,” you say through gritted teeth. If it’s a fight he wants, it’s a fight he will get.

“Oh, I know.” He smiles down at you. “You will marry Kuchiki Byakuya, one way or another.” Then, he turns to Shinobu, who has been waiting outside the doorway. “Pass on the message: The Kidō Corps Commander is feeling unwell and will not be returning to her duties until further notice.” Sōbei glances back at you one last time to catch the unmovable defiance in your eyes. 

But he’ll have all the time in the world to break your will, in the comfort of your own home. 

“And I hope she recovers from her ailments soon.”

Chapter Text

- Devotion -

Byakuya’s return to the Kuchiki manor is almost met immediately with inquiries from the clan’s vassals, as usual. The Head of Clan isn’t an empty title by any means, and throughout the ages he’s grown familiar and rather comfortable with his myriad of duties. For the most part, at least.

After reviewing the schedule for the upcoming ritual celebrations and resolving a land-use disagreement, he sits outside his office to enjoy a brief moment of peace with a cup of tea. Next to him is an elderly gentleman, Elder Ietomo , who has been a strong hand aiding in overseeing the clan’s operations since Lord Kuchiki Ginrei had assumed the title of the Clan Head.

A most trustworthy subordinate.

“This summer has been chillier than past years,” the old man says as he pours more tea. The servants have been dismissed upon his arrival, leaving the conversation private. His voice is soft, almost overcome by a timely breeze to prove his point. 

Byakuya says nothing.

All is silent for a short while, and the quiet is broken again by the elder as he stares into the garden before them. “The committee wishes to meet with you soon, milord.” 

This catches Byakuya’s attention. The committee is composed of the most influential vassals and elders of the Kuchiki Clan, and while individually they are responsible for carrying out most of his tasks, it is quite rare that they meet him as a collective. In fact, the number of times he’s met all of them together can be counted on one hand, and each time has been a turning point in his life. He averts his gaze from the wilting cherry blossom tree in the garden to focus on his companion. 

As if not noticing, Elder Ietomo continues to look ahead. “It is concerned with your personal affairs.”

“... My personal affairs?” Byakuya doesn’t know whether he should be surprised. It’s been many years since Hisana’s passing, and without an heir to his position the clan is bound to get anxious eventually. He just didn’t think it would be so soon.

Or maybe he simply wished it could be later. Much, much later.

“I have no intentions for marriage at this time,” he says plainly.

But Elder Ietomo will have none of it―and neither will the committee. He pushes his spectacles up the bridge of his nose as he speaks, “Perhaps we may be so impudent to make a recommendation?” 

The elder sounds like he’s speaking on their behalf, and Byakuya realizes that the committee must have already reached an agreement without his own consultation. It displeases him, but he is at least somewhat grateful that Elder Ietomo has come to discuss with him ahead of time, whether it be the intent of the committee or not. This is better than to be caught off-guard in public.

The older man turns to face his superior, expression calm. “The Lady of the Tamahashi Clan is yet unwed. It would be wise to use this opportunity to mend our clan’s relationship with them.”

The Lady of the Tamahashi Clan. Byakuya remembers her―how could he not? Without ever having met the Lady in person, he’d broken off their age-old engagement to marry Hisana decades ago. That was the first time he’d met the committee in opposition, and it was brutal. The Tamahashi Clan did not take the dissolution well, and the consequence of his decision is simple: a long-lasting grudge that ensues to this day. It certainly hasn’t made the Kuchiki Clan’s life easy since then.

He was young and naive back then, and had certainly severely underestimated the Lady’s prestige, thus the extent of the damage he’d caused. In hindsight, he should have known better, and most definitely could have handled the matter better, too. It comes as no shock that his clan is eager to repair the connection. 

It’s his own price to pay.

Yes, objectively and without considering emotions, it is absolutely correct to move forward with the arrangement. However…

“Is this an advocacy for the Tamahashi Clan?” Byakuya’s suspicion isn’t unjustified; the committee’s unison is peculiar, to put it mildly. From the way he sees it, there must have been some sort of communication between the vassals of the two sides. He should be at least slightly vigilant that his subordinates haven’t all been bought out by another clan. It’s his only excuse.

Elder Ietomo smiles. “We would all be relieved to establish an alliance with them. It’s what your father wanted for you, too.”

Byakuya doesn’t remember very much about his parents―they passed away honorably when he was quite young. It’s not the first time he’s heard that the arrangement dated back to when they were still alive, but that was all after he’d met Hisana. It didn’t matter to him then, but evidently the Kuchiki Clan figured it would now. And they may be right.

He gets to his feet and turns to his office. Elder Ietomo seems taken aback by this, and turns around to face the back of his superior. Urgency shows in his voice as he speaks, “Will you undertake the proposal, milord?”

Instead of replying, Byakuya remains quiet and pauses shortly. He’s not yet sure how he feels about the engagement, even if it’s the right thing to do with all things considered. Perhaps he just needs some time to digest it all.

The clan can’t afford to give the time, however. “How long will you allow the bitterness to persist?” Bowing and pressing his forehead against the wooden floor, as if acutely aware of having stepped over the boundaries yet unrelenting, the elder continues, “I plead you to think of the clan, milord! Please make the just decision...”

Byakuya suppresses a frown, but his shoulders are a little tense. He steps into his office and closes his eyes. Deep inside, he doesn’t want to remarry. Hasn’t felt the need to. And after experiencing what he could only describe as the love of his life, he’s convinced that it’s all he could ever need in his romantic history. His life now is just fine; managing the clan, leading his division, training his sister―he can do it all alone. Even with the trouble that the Tamahashi Clan has been making for him, he’s pulled through all these years, no?

But those are only his personal opinions―worthless before the cold judgement of the clan. Just fine is not good enough. It’s unacceptable that he remains spouseless― without heir . Elder Ietomo’s final uttering said enough: there is only one correct, just decision. The underlying message is just as clear, reminding him that his previous ones had been wrong. 

As if their vehement opposition hadn’t been enough indication.

He knows what his clan wants, and that they mean the best for him. The stubborn part of him just doesn’t want to admit that they’re right.

―

On the tiny table in the corner is a picture frame. The photo captures Hisana’s delicate beauty perfectly. Her soft gaze and tender smile shine through the glass and straight into his heart. As if she was still here with him. His fingers brush over the image, picturing running them through her sweet-scented hair. Trying to remember.

He can’t live in an illusion forever. The clan will not allow him to.

―

Byakuya resumes work at his desk. Moments later, he is interrupted by footsteps at the doorway.

“ Brother .”

He lifts his eyes from the paperwork that he’s just begun, gaze settling on the small, kneeling figure just outside his office.

“ Rukia ,” Byakuya greets, watching as the girl raises her head. Ever-so modest, ever-so respectful, even though she isn’t born into aristocracy. “Is there something you need?”

Rukia swallows. She’s still rather nervous around her noble brother that pretty much fell from the sky into her life, and understandably so. “May I travel to Rukongai tomorrow? It is for training.”

Byakuya doesn’t really like the idea of having her run off to the streets, let alone for training purposes. Rukongai can be quite dangerous, what with unruly Souls and Hollows appearing unexpectedly, and he’s made a promise to Hisana to keep her sister safe from harm. But, alas, she is a shinigami, after all. He holds on to his sigh and sets down his brush. “Will you be accompanied?”

Rukia’s eyes light up. She looks just like her. “Yes! I will be going with Vice-Captain Shiba Kaien . We expect to return before nightfall.” It’s been a few years since her adoption, and she’s pretty much figured out how to properly make requests to her brother: have answers ready for the ‘Who? What? Where? When? How? Why?’ Works like a charm every time.

Her responses are satisfactory. “Very well.” When Rukia lingers hesitantly, Byakuya notices. “Is there anything else?”

Her gaze briefly darts to the side, down the corridor. “I saw Elder Ietomo leave just now… shall I see him off?”

The elder’s words reverberate in Byakuya’s mind once more as his eyes are filled with her, and a chilling draft makes itself known down his back as realization sets in. One mistake. Two mistakes . He cannot forget them. If allowing Hisana’s marriage was the Kuchiki Clan’s leniency, then Rukia’s adoption was leverage. A favor .

And favors must be paid back. 

There is no universe where he can reject the clan’s arrangement. Those are the rules. And there is perhaps nothing more righteous than agreeing to a predestined fate that is just as righteous as its intent. He has to set an example. He must.

“It is not of your concern,” Byakuya replies coldly. Cold not towards Rukia, but to himself. She appears shaken regardless, and his innards contort in guilt. Don’t look like that. I didn’t mean to . He can’t bring himself to say those words to her. Instead, they sink in his stomach and rot, turning to bile in his mouth as he regards her with a frigidness that he can’t quite control.

He must be a terrible brother.

“M-my apologies. Please excuse me,” Rukia says in a small voice as she quickly retreats, vanishing from his sight like a spooked child.

Byakuya’s head hurts. He wants to rest. Wants to hide away in his illusions where no clan, no marriage, and no inner demons can trouble him. Hide away with Hisana.

Hide away alone.

But duty yanks him back from the center of his downward spiral, and he remembers his promise. His promise to the clan, his promise to Hisana, and his promise at his parents’ grave.

He can’t fail them.

That is his final decision.

―

The meeting with the committee was rather peaceful. Clearly, the vassals had shown up in full preparation for a battle of words and wits against their Head of Clan and bracing for the worst, especially after Elder Ietomo’s apparently-fruitless return, but Byakuya had surprised them, pleasantly, with a mild reception to the idea. The only sign of struggle had been questions on the Tamahashi Lady’s status and legitimacy, and the validity of the arrangement.

They were ready to let loose.

“Tamahashi Sōbei is delighted with the discussion going forward; this is a most opportune time to establish an alliance.”

“The Lady has never been wed, that much is confirmed.”

“It is said that she has devoted her time to her clan and the military―”

“A most noble and dutiful Lady, she is. Milord, did you know that she is Commander of the Kidō Corps?”

The Kidō Corps?

Byakuya’s thoughts briefly drift to that woman he’d met weeks earlier―she is from the Kidō Corps, is she not? For a moment he wonders what’s become of her―whether she’d been reprimanded for what those men sought her for―but what’s he doing, thinking of some other woman when he’s about to get married to one? But to have trained such a brash and cheeky subordinate… he can’t quite imagine how well this Tamahashi Lady must be managing her division.

From there, the meeting essentially devolved into madness, from answering his concerns to praising how perfect a pair the Lady and he would make (even though he’s quite certain none of these people have ever met her in person). A few of the elders even began to draft up potential wedding dates with good fortune as early as next month, and that’s when Byakuya knew he had to put his foot down.

“We shall resume the discussion of details at a later date. I am certain that the Tamahashi Clan would like to offer their own opinions for consideration as well.” That shut them up real good. Byakuya sighs. It feels surreal to have this conversation in the first place―to accept reality. “I have a request to make to the Tamahashi Clan. Elder Ietomo,” he pauses to address the older man who is sitting closest to him. Elder Ietomo looks absolutely ecstatic as he picks up his brush to write down the message. “I wish to meet the Head of the Tamahashi Clan, Tamahashi Sōbei, in person to discuss the advancement of this arrangement. Additionally,” he glances across the meeting room to the vassals present. 

They are all eagerly waiting for him to continue, without a single glimpse of objection to his requests. Indeed, they have reached their goal of mending the broken bond that he’s guilty of―what more could they want from him?

But he needs a little leeway. Some confirmation.

“Prior to any further proceedings, I wish to meet Lady Tamahashi in person, as well.”

Chapter Text

- Agreement -

You want to be dramatic and say that the last few days have been torture, but the only thing that could be considered grilling was your brother’s daily visits to see if you’ve changed your mind. At some point he would lecture you about your duties and honor, blah blah blah , but you’ve proven to be annoyingly steadfast in your rejection of the marriage. Many such meetings have ended in him waving his sleeve in frustration and leaving you without a second glance―in fact, you think that you’re beginning to turn this into torture for him .

A victory, no matter how small, is a victory nonetheless.

Your smug smile is wiped from your face when you see your mother approach the porch where you sit, and you rise to your feet to greet her. Her handmaids place a few dishes of snacks on the tiny table between you as you both sit.

“I hope you’re resting alright,” your mother says. 

You shrug. “As well as I can be, I guess.” You laugh dryly and wave a hand, showing her the cuff around your wrist. Made of sekkiseki , the same stone as the walls enclosing Seireitei, the cuffs restrict flow of your spiritual energy, rendering it nigh impossible for you to use your superior talent in Kidō to break free of your situation. Of course, your movement remains free, and had you really wanted to escape the Tamahashi manor there are certainly other options―only not very peaceful ones.

Her gaze is somewhat somber. “Don’t hold a grudge against your brother; he’s only doing what he believes is the best for you.”

You’re not naive enough to be illusioned that your mother hadn’t played a part in all this―after all, she was the one preparing dinner that day―but you mentally applaud her choice to place your brother’s favor above her own. Unity is what ensured your survival to this day. You’re sure she knows that you know, too. So, you lean back a little in your seat and relax.

“So you’ll tell me the same things he’s been for the past days?” You raise an eyebrow and cross your arms. “I really don’t see how marrying the source of all my damaged reputation is ‘the best for me.’”

A calm smile returns to your mother’s face. “You believe I came to regurgitate his words? Your brother is a smart man, but he really doesn’t know how to speak to women properly.” Something changes in her gaze, and subconsciously your back straightens. Your mother always has the best advice, evident in her handling of the clan when your brother was young. “I know you are hurt by what happened to your original engagement, but you’ve never had a chance to heal.”

You admit she’s right, but you’re not sure you want to heal. Not in this way , at least. 

Lady Yuna pours tea and continues, “And until you heal, the clan will hurt.” Shame resurfaces in your gut, and you feel your blood thicken. 

Throughout your entire upbringing, regardless of everything else that happened, the importance of your birth was preached to every soul in the Tamahashi Clan: the long-awaited daughter for centuries, the one destined to return former glory to the clan. The engagement cancellation was a rude awakening to remind you of your insignificance to everyone else. A laughing stock. An imposter . Perhaps you once believed that leaving the noble life behind you to focus on your military achievements would be good enough to redeem your character, and you’ve certainly done an excellent job, but now it’s clear that the clan isn’t done with you quite yet. 

You close your eyes briefly. You never wished for any praise nor pity, but the pain was real. 

Is still real. 

Your mother’s voice is soft and soothing like a whisper as she touches your hand. “They don’t hurt because of you, my dear. They hurt with you. They feel the injustice as much as you do, and this is your time to end it.”

You frown. “But why should I― we ―be the ones to give in when the Kuchiki is at fault?” And that’s where your brain is locked down. You’re not unreasonable; you simply can’t fathom the reasoning.

“Giving in? We are not giving in to anything―if anything, we are gaining access to their clan.” There is a muted sinisterness that seeps from her tone, and you suddenly feel a chill creep up your spine. Yet her smile remains warm and comforting, like a hot blade fresh out of the forge, pressing into the rot of your wound to dig up the thorn beneath.

Yes, you remember that vulnerability. You remember how it was taken advantage of, and you would rather burn in hell than to let it happen again.

“Don’t you want retribution for what happened? Don’t you want to mend your image? A Tamahashi Lady is strong and steadfast, so you will tear through all obstacles with courage. Do not allow weakness into your heart. Show them the wrong in their ways with triumph through your own.”

For your clan, and for yourself.

―

The manor’s North garden is much less of an open area than its East counterpart. Tall maples dominate the sky with still-green leaves, and in the lower air willows weep into the quiet streams that carve the earth. It’s the best location to seek shade on a hot summer day, though by winter it would appear almost desolate.

Many good memories reside here, as do you.

Across the Go board before you Sōbei contemplates his next move. You look out onto the terrace, where your plants remain carefully tended to, even in your constant absence. 

Click . “So, you have decided?” He asks. You glance back to see him fixated on the board. Even an amateur like you can instantly see it’s a horrible move, just like his previous ones. It’s clear that neither of you have your mind on the game. It’s all a mess, really, and you suppose it could be a suitable metaphor for the situation at hand. 

For the briefest moment you contemplate straight-up lying and declare you’re having an affair in the military―perhaps with the good-looking stranger you’d had that annoying exchange with, but regardless of how irked you had been your good nature decides against dragging an innocent into your feud. 

“I’m giving it thought .” You choose not to look at him as you respond, providing yourself an extra second to consider your next words. You don’t like it, but your mother’s words resonated with you. It’s pointless to run. Perhaps Sōbei thinks now that your noble character has finally shown itself in his presence, though you certainly can’t have him believing he can push you further into whatever hand he’s playing. You’d rather know what you’re getting into but your brother is tricky; who knows what trap might lie ahead? In the end, you play your turn―an attack―and decide it shall be his turn to fill the silence.

“Well, it’s good that you are. You will soon realize that this arrangement is the best of all prospects.”

You beg to differ. Surely not all honorable men have died off of this plane of existence? “Why did you choose Kuchiki Byakuya, of all men? If you want an alliance with another Great Noble House, you could just marry me off to Tsunayashiro Tokinada ,” you reply airily.

Sōbei’s eye twitches as he nearly smashes his piece into the board. “I would rather die than allow that pig to lay a finger on you.”

Fair enough. “ Yūshirō , then.”

“I don’t think Lady Yoruichi would be very fond of the idea of you marrying her younger brother.”

“No longer a Lady,” you correct, though the point is made. You’re not particularly interested in the idea of marrying a teen, either. You place your move. “So any other nobleman. You know, there are plenty of excellent and unmarried men in the Gotei 13.”

“Your marriage is not selecting produce.” Sōbei sighs deeply. “You are my only baby sister, and the Lady of the Tamahashi Clan; you deserve only the best.” You barely open your mouth to retort with ‘ And a man with the foresight of Lord Kuchiki is?!’ when he adds, “The best is what father chose for you. All other things aside, Kuchiki Byakuya does possess superior status, capability, and character.”

You roll your eyes. So it is selecting produce . “I think I will decide that for myself.” Your brother raises an eyebrow at your statement. You make your play, white stone clicking crisply against the lacquered wood, and look at him sharply. You’re quite sure the game is over. “Before my final decision, I want to meet him. Alone .”

Sōbei’s eyes widen, though the surprise is soon replaced by suspicion. Assessing whether you’re up to no good. Tauntingly, you play with the sekkiseki bead clasp in your hair: a token worn by members of the Main House meant to constrict the high spiritual energy inherited from oni blood. As much as you would love to give Byakuya a piece of your mind, you’re far more diplomatic than stupid. Didn’t see that one coming, did ya? You feel rather proud of your victory, and regard your brother almost smugly. 

Then, it’s your turn to be caught off-guard by a chuckle erupting from his lips. “Maybe you’re truly made for each other.” You really have no idea what he means, and stare at him blankly. Sōbei’s smile mirrors your previously-smug gaze. “Just a few days ago, he’d made the same request as you.”

He lies. He must be. You narrow your eyes and clench your jaws, but your brother betrays nothing. You’re nothing like that man―if anything, you’re better , and you’re going to prove it. “Hmpf!” Without another word, you rise to your feet and march away, leaving Sōbei to clean up the game by himself.

Chapter Text

- Kin -

Sōbei looks down at the board in thought. You had been so absorbed in your attacks that you’d failed to see the flaw in your defenses. A victory for you on the surface alone. He places down a single black tile and immediately the tides are turned. 

“You’re too naive yet, dear sister.” A soft, tender smile. His victory. “But we are family―my victory is your victory; your loss is my loss.” The smile sours and his gaze hardens. 

“What you’ve lost, I will take back for you.”

Chapter Text

- New Beginning -

To say you’re not anxious on the day of the meeting would be a lie, even though you continue to tell yourself that there’s no good reason to be. The bustling state of the Tamahashi Manor isn’t helping, either. Since before sunrise, it seemed the whole estate was deployed to put everything in perfect order , as your mother commanded. Even your normally more-than-spacious bedroom currently must have over twenty handmaids rushing to tend to your appearance.

If this is preparation for a preliminary meeting, you don’t even want to think about what a potential wedding would look like. It makes you push the idea of marriage even further away in your mind, even just to avoid all the headache. The stuffed room only makes it worse.

You’re beginning to think this meeting is a mistake.

A maid rushes into your room, adding to the chaos. “Lord Kuchiki has arrived!”

“We must hurry!” Lady Yuna exclaims, and you immediately feel the cinch on your obi tighten, nearly making you choke on a breath. “Dear, your makeup…”

“Mother, I’m not getting married yet .” You can’t believe you have to remind her of this. Paint on your face? What would be the point of this meeting? You wouldn’t even recognize yourself, let alone Byakuya in the future― halt! You’re not getting married yet!

After some more ‘final adjustments’ that must have taken forever, your mother finally decides that you look presentable, and reveals you to the floor-length mirror. You must admit, you look absolutely regal in the overly-complex furisode , and it really puts you in the mood to talk down on someone. The multitude of pins and danglies in your hair makes you look pristine yet not over-the-top―an occasion reserved for the wedding ceremony, you presume. Makeup is on-point and minimal, with a swipe of bright red eyeliner that truly makes it impossible to forget the color of your eyes.

I look damn fine .

Your self-indulgent moment is quickly forgotten as your horde begins marching you towards the main hall in the center of the manor, reminding you of what’s to come. What do you say to Byakuya? Should you act cold or friendly? Not too friendly, perhaps―you don’t want to give the impression that you’ve somehow forgotten the absolute outrage of your cancelled engagement. Or, even worse, forgiven! What if he’s rude? Should you call in your brother to send him on his way or do the honors yourself?

Countless scenarios and scripts play in your head along the way and by the end you feel that the walk hadn’t been long enough, yet somehow upon reaching the doorway you don’t trip over your hem to make a fool out of yourself like some rom-com cliché.

“Lady Tamahashi has arrived,” a handmaid in the lead announces from the porch, curling in on herself as she kneels and bows on your behalf.

“Just in time.” You hear your brother’s voice from inside. “Enter.”

As the screens slide open you take a deep breath, lift your sleeves level to your eyes in courtesy, and shuffle inside with tiny footsteps that your mother reiterated you must employ. “Brother,” you greet, curtsying to the center of the room where you know he’s sitting despite not being able to look just yet. The corner of your eye catches a shadow sitting ahead to your right, and after a flash of a mental brawl you curtsy in that direction as well. “Lord Kuchiki.”

You can’t even imagine what your expression must look like when you finally lower your stiffening arms to take a first look at your suitor. All your recited speeches fly out of your mind as your brain just… shuts down.

Steel eyes catch your gaze and for a moment you could swear you see your petrified reflection in them, though you very quickly realize that it is merely his own shock showing through. Even with the signature kenseikan styling his hair and silver scarf draped over his shoulders, you’d recognize that handsome―yet very punchable―face anywhere. 

Yes, without a doubt, you’ve met this man before.

Clearly, Kuchiki Byakuya realizes this too.

The two of you lock gazes for what feels like eternity, and by some strange compelling force neither of you speaks a word. You just… stare.

Sōbei, annoyingly, appears utterly amused by the situation. “My, it seems like you’ve already met―I suppose that’s only natural, given you are both high-ranking officers. That saves me the effort of introductions. Sister, please sit.” He turns to you, and you break out of your trance and obey with gratitude. In your seat, you manage to recover, and when you finally collect enough brain cells to look across at Byakuya again his expression has returned to emotionlessness.

You really don’t want to admit it, but your brother had a point: there is an uncanny agreement between both your behaviors. 

“I understand you wished to meet each other first-hand―I shall leave you both to it, then. I will be back shortly, but please feel at ease to request any assistance, Lord Kuchiki.” You must also admit that he has a most incredible sense of social awareness as he immediately gets to his feet to leave you to drown in the awkwardness. Yes, truly the pinnacle of big-brotherhood. Your slightly-frustrated look of silence is completely disregarded as Sōbei smiles at you. “ Do take care of our guest while I am away.”

Byakuya remains silent as he watches it all unfold before his eyes. You’re not certain what you were expecting, but even after your brother has escaped he appears unmoved. Frankly, if it wasn’t for his reaction that could only be described as stupefied you might have thought this whole arrangement―the previous meetings under disguise, in particular―is a farce. A cruel joke of some sort. Reality puts a little bit of ease back into you, and somehow it’s relieving to see a somewhat familiar face, even if you don’t like it.

You let out a breath and get comfortable in your seat despite your outfit, peering at him through slitted, evaluating eyes. “Well, this is a surprise.” 

“Indeed.” Byakuya doesn’t seem particularly inclined to speak to you. Maybe he’s yet unconvinced that everything is just a coincidence, but you really can’t tell what he’s thinking. 

So, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

“Let’s cut to the chase, then. It’s pretty obvious that neither of us want this marriage; I suggest we part ways and never see each other ever again.”

You’d once believed that your proposal would be considered preposterous, but the man doesn’t look surprised at all. Rather, his lack of any reaction tells you that he must have been expecting it. Good . That means you’re both on the same page.

“That is not true. I am in favor of this arrangement.”

You raise an eyebrow and nearly snort at his response. “I don’t believe that for a second.” You can’t help it: words simply spurt out of you―no more point in wearing a mask of some dainty fair maiden before him. You’re pretty certain that you’ve already previously displayed yourself at your most unladylike, anyway.

Byakuya’s exhalation is audible as he blinks, eyes shut for a moment too long, suggesting hesitation. He then gazes straight at you, unmovable as stone. “Yes, I want this marriage.”

“You’re sure you won’t change your mind?” You’re basically taunting him at this point, but if anything you’ve decided that he deserves it. What did he expect? You pretending that the damage he’d caused doesn’t exist? A friendly verbal reminder is a small price for all the humiliation you’d endured.

You notice a break in his expression. The tiniest narrowing of his eyes. “Will you be doing this often?”

You shrug. “That was the last time. Just making sure.” It was worth a try, though now you see that apparently you’re the only one who had doubts about this whole thing. Plus, Byakuya seems totally determined to go through with the marriage, so you doubt you can convince him otherwise. No matter , you’ve had enough days to kind of get comfortable to the idea. Granted, a familiar face is unexpected, but you smooth out your attitude and settle back into the persona you’ve crafted for yourself: neutral, detached, but absolutely in control. You’re marrying for his name , not him , after all. 

“If I am to become your wife,” Gods, that sounds weird , “you must agree to three terms.” Before he can reply―an objection, surely―you hold up a hand. “Don’t worry, they will not interfere with your duty or morals.” When he merely stares at you in silence you take it as a sign to continue. “One: you shall not speak or act in a way to undermine my reputation.” 

Byakuya’s gaze grows somewhat annoyed. “I thought you said that was the last time.”

You send him a cheeky grin in reply. “What? I thought of these rules long ago.” Long ago being a few days in advance, but you digress. “Two: you shall allow me my personal freedom.” No reaction. “Three: you shall consult my opinion on all major matters.”

He raises a brow. “And what do major matters constitute?”

A good question that you have a sufficient answer prepared for. “Anything that the Head Lady of the Kuchiki Clan should be aware of.” You add an innocent smile. “And of course, I shall reciprocate the same.”

There’s a pause of silence between you two as he contemplates your conditions, and perhaps shall realize that the final rule certainly would give you much more influence over his clan than him over yours, but that’s in fine print and only on paper―a brawl for control would be much more complicated in real life. Perhaps he shall consider himself steadfast enough to resist whatever change you might try to impart on the Kuchiki Clan, and you’re completely fine with that. You’ve already accepted this duty as a battle to be won, and where’s the fun without a challenge? 

Byakuya finally shows satisfaction to your terms as he meets your gaze again. “Very well.” He pauses again, “I have one to add, as well.” Unexpected, but not surprising―it seems you’ve met your match. You gesture for him to continue, so he does, “I have an adopted younger sister, Rukia. You shall treat her with the same respect as you would your own.”

As your own sister? Intriguing, you would have thought that he would demand better treatment as a husband before asking for a sister’s favor from you―one’s a blood bond and the other is, well, a husband. This certainly makes you curious about this Kuchiki Rukia, but that can come later; she’s not at the Tamahashi Manor as far as you’re concerned, but you’ll meet her eventually.

Taking notice of your quietness, perhaps as hesitation, Byakuya adds, “She is well-disciplined and humble. You need not concern yourself about her conduct.”

“You’re putting quite a heavy burden on her; my expectations for a sibling are high,” you half-joke. Both Sōbei and you have many involvements in the arts and socialisation―before you ran off to do your own thing away from the clan, anyway―but truth is you’re not sure what you’d be like as an older sister. Perhaps it’s a chance to find out.

Byakuya’s eyes shut briefly, a sight you find rather serene. “All the better for her own good.”

Despite what you’ve observed of the man thus far―cold, reserved, nearly devoid of humor―you sense from him a great amount of unspoken care for this younger girl. It feels… delicate. You pursue the topic no further, but it does bring a smile to your face. “Fine. But since I don’t really have anything equal to that, it’s only fair I get one more rule to establish.” You’re not about to give freebies.

“And what would that be?”

You take a moment to think, but nothing in particular comes up. At the present, you’re mostly concerned with your own reputation and well-being if you’re to legitimately marry into the Kuchiki Clan, so you decide to set it aside. “I don’t know yet, but I’ll let you know when it comes to me.”

“You will not be making unreasonable demands,” Byakuya states flatly.

Like hell . You shrug. “As long as you’re not. So it’s settled, then.”

“I suppose it is acceptable.”

“Will you swear it on your honor?”

He looks at you, clearly finding your repetition of his previous fault irritating. You meet his frustration with the same calm, innocent smile―one that you realize, in a rare moment of lucidity, must be identical to that of your brother, and at last truly understand how disgustingly powerful it is. A sigh leaves him, tinged with the slightest of helplessness that makes your smile widen. “I swear it on my honor.”

“Good. I will leave it to you to declare this news to my brother,” you say, awaiting Sōbei’s return. 

You have to admit, this all went smoother than expected. Though, granted, you didn’t exactly expect to be meeting the same stone-faced man again across the discussion. At the end of the day, whether he upholds his side of the bargain remains to be observed, but if his character is even half as respectable as your brother made him out to be, perhaps you won’t have much to worry about.

Byakuya’s gaze has found something more interesting than yours: a teacup, as he brings it to his thin lips. A thin wisp of steam rises before his face, and with the beautiful scenery painted on the screens that surround the room there is something quite poetic about the setup. You silently admire the view, all the while immersing yourself in the surrealism of the situation.

Two strangers only several weeks ago, both meeting while unaware of their promised hand to the other. Both discussing and agreeing to a once-broken vow like it’s child’s play―as if it doesn’t concern them. Both putting their blind faith in the other.

Are you really going to marry this man?

Really?

What will your life become?

Or, rather, what will you make of your life from there?

Perhaps Byakuya is asking himself the same questions.

Chapter Text

- Foresight -

Although your engagement has been personally decided, your duties at home aren’t quite over yet. For one, a formal announcement has to be made to the rest of the Tamahashi Clan, starting with your other relatives in the Main House. That includes your late father’s siblings and their families, your late grandfather’s siblings and their families, and any other elders in the direct lineage of your ancestors. There aren’t many left, and for the most part the voices of the Main House have belonged to your older brother and the eldest of your father’s younger brothers, Lord Hayato .

“After the humiliation that our Lady has suffered from the Kuchiki Clan, it would be most shameful to wed her into it now. Kuchiki Byakuya does not deserve the hand of our Lady!” Said man sits nearest to your brother at the center of the room, and wears a disapproving expression. His gaze turns sympathetic when he looks at you, sitting next to Sōbei.

You reckon that the man never seemed to get along or agree with your brother on anything, so you can’t really say that Lord Hayato’s reaction is unwarranted. However, you’d been expecting a rejection from the vassals rather than the Main House. If anything, you have been under the impression that a consensus must have been reached among the Main House regarding your marriage before Sōbei pulled a quick one on you. 

Clearly, your assumption had been wrong.

You glance at Sōbei, but as usual he betrays nothing.

“The Kuchiki Clan is more than agreeable to ensure the utmost respect and honor for my sister in good faith of this arrangement,” Sōbei replies calmly, as if already having expected Lord Hayato’s objection. 

With good reason , you suppose. 

“Negotiations regarding details are underway, and we can fully expect everything that a Lady of her status deserves, if not more.” Your brother smiles as he looks at you, not at all reacting to your slightly confused gaze. “And of course, the wedding ceremony shall be to our clan’s standards.”

It sends a small shiver down your spine as you recall the pure chaos of merely meeting your fiancé (to be?) for the first time.

Lord Hayato doesn’t appear quite satisfied, despite your brother’s adequate response. His expression softens, as does his voice, when he addresses you, “Milady, is this arrangement to your favor?” 

Sōbei reaches for your hand and gently squeezes it in reassurance. Or signal. 

Something clicks in your head. 

Despite his disagreements with your brother, Lord Hayato has always been kind to you. Had he asked this question before your meeting with Byakuya―before the consul of your mother―you could have certainly been swayed to claim his side. But now… 

You’re beginning to see the situation more clearly.

Holding your head high, you reply in an airy voice, “I have spoken to Lord Kuchiki in person to discuss my own terms. I am satisfied with this engagement.” It does tug at your tongue to speak it out loud, however.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see your brother’s smile widen ever so slightly. There is a shift in Lord Hayato’s reaction―surprise that you’ve agreed, surely. Then, to your shock, he folds over and bows to you, his forehead pressed against the floor. “Milady, I plead with you to reconsider; the Kuchiki Clan cannot be trusted!”

Your gut twists in guilt, and your gentle instinct commands you to ask him to sit up, but Sōbei’s grip on your hand is like a vice, pulling you back from the verge of teetering over. You glance at him again only to see a stony expression, and understand.

Your voice is firm as it travels throughout the room: “My decision is final.”

―

“You should have told me that the Main House is unaware of my engagement,” you scold immediately after the guests have been dismissed, leaving only you and your brother in the room. “That could have been disastrous!”

Sōbei doesn’t seem to mind your tone. “I can’t risk having you rally Uncle Hayato to an objection. As you have seen,” he gestures to the empty spots where said man and other relatives had been seated. “The climate at home hasn’t been the warmest lately.”

You raise an eyebrow. “So you were using me against him?” 

Not that you’re necessarily faulting him for it, but a little transparency would be appreciated, especially after that fiasco at the dinner of your return. Nevertheless, you fully understand that given Lord Hayato’s disposition he would be first to hop on board to use you against your own brother. That begging pose earlier? A little overdramatic, but you’re fairly certain it was just a show to trap your quickness to sympathize. And it worked.

Somehow, your marriage has turned into a political matter.

Well, you suppose it was never anything less. 

But it’s not like you can go back on your words now, else you’d be stooping to a new low of the likes of Kuchiki Byakuya. Despicable . 

You admit, Sōbei definitely played his cards well to first have you personally agree to marry into the Kuchiki Clan, and in hindsight had you known that Lord Hayato could have backed you up for a rejection you would have never even considered the prospect of a second engagement.

You’re not certain what this means for you and your clan. Sōbei’s image is shrouded, and for the first time in decades you rediscover that you cannot see a thing through him. The distance between the two of you is evident now, more than ever. 

A split-second of doubt reaches you: have you made the correct decision to trust him over Lord Hayato? After all, if both men are simply using you and your status, what difference does it make to stand with one versus the other? 

You crush the thought with resolution; this is the exact distrust that Lord Hayato intended to employ against your brother. 

You don’t forget the scar on Shinobu’s handsome face―how it resulted from protecting your brother from assassins all those years ago. You don’t forget who sent the assassins―you just don’t have any proof . You don’t forget that Kuchiki Byakuya’s actions were at least partially responsible for what happened―and this may be the only chance you will ever have to get any sort of closure.

You don’t forget your mother’s words―this decision is purely your own, as a Tamahashi Lady.

“You’re making it sound like I’m some evil mastermind.” Then, a small smile appears on Sōbei’s lips. “But I’m glad we are on the same team in the end.”

Your temper rises. “We have always been on the same team.” Yet even as you say that, your gut twists―you would be lying to claim you hadn’t felt at least the tiniest bit of resentment towards Sōbei. Towards his inability to do something about your first engagement’s humiliating dissolution.

It’s always so much easier to blame others for one’s own misfortunes, no?

In hindsight, Sōbei was powerless at the time, and he’s still your brother and you would fight the whole world for him, but ever since that past moment your relationship with him―with the clan―has never been the same. And frankly, it feels like he’s taunting you with the allusion. Perhaps he has the right to.

He smiles at you warmly and takes your hands into his. “Yes, and we will remain that way. It’s good to have you back home, sister.”

Despite yourself, you smile in return. “It’s good to be back.”

Maybe your mother was right. Maybe this is a chance to heal, after all.

The topic reels back to the matter regarding your engagement as the two of you step out and onto the walkway overseeing the terrace. “Seeing Uncle Hayato’s reaction, I can’t imagine the vassals will be any more pleased to hear of this,” you say. 

If Sōbei and Lord Hayato are the two opposite ends of the Main House’s power, the vassals make up the vast neutrality between them. Historically, the Main House is the natural leader of the vassals, but with your brother’s somewhat weak authority―largely due to your father’s early passing―the Main House is stretched quite thin, so whoever controls the vassals is the de facto leader of the Tamahashi Clan. 

As any neutrality should be, the vassals as a whole aren’t so easy to sway to either side, but you’re sure that there are plenty that have been picking their team ever since your brother became Head of Clan. Otherwise, Lord Hayato would not be confident to act so brashly against him.

That’s where you come in, actually.

Sōbei’s reply is nonchalant, “Does it matter? You have been succeeding as Kidō Commander for nearly a century now; I doubt any of them would be foolish enough to invalidate your decisions.”

The Tamahashi Clan had traditionally been in control of the Kidō Corps and its predecessor prior to the assembly of the Gōtei 13, acting as the clan’s united military force. Your ancestor was a powerful oni woman, and thus her female descendants―including you―were the only ones from the clan that were considered worthy to lead the military. The problem came and persisted several centuries before you, in which no daughters were born for the entire duration, and to make a long story short that is how the clan lost control of the Kidō Corps.

Until you were born, that is. 

It’s one of the reasons why your prestige felt so inflated in the first place, and why the vassals were―and likely still are―so outraged by the annulment of your first engagement. You would go as far as to say that this indignation is what fuels some of their support for Lord Hayato; after all, you had been in those same shoes.

You are about to reply that his response is all the more reason for the vassals to object to your current situation, but your brother smiles at you faintly in reassurance. “Do not worry. Lord Yagyu is taking care to persuade the major families.”

“Lord Yagyu?” 

You remember Yagyu Hiroshi as an outspoken and stubborn nobleman of high authority among the vassals, and despite his consistent support for your brother, you’re not aware that he would go to such extents for you―for your unsavory reengagement. Your brows knit, remembering that he has children of his own. “Brother, you…”

“After the matter of your marriage is settled, I will be marrying Lady Azusa.” Sōbei’s voice is monotone, though his smile persists even as you look up at him disbelievingly. 

You’re not even certain that your surprise is warranted; you’d always known that Yagyu Azusa is fond of your brother―as a good number of noblewomen of your clan are. Perhaps you simply did not expect him to have decided on her so soon (is it even too soon?), or perhaps that you had never really thought of him marrying at all. Somehow, your brother’s personal affairs seem to have completely eluded you.

His smile widens, albeit a little forcedly. “Why do you look at me like that? It is about time for the Tamahashi Clan Head to finally be wed.”

“But you… You weren'5 engaged, last I heard.” You realize that your words don’t mean much, considering you had essentially cut the entire clan out of your life for the past few decades. It’s really not fair to him. You gather your thoughts, “You could have married far sooner.”

Had Sōbei married Azusa when he became Head of the clan, he could have had a much easier time leading. Strangling dissent in its crib, you might even say. Lord Yagyu may not have been as prominent back then, but surely things would have been different…

“I have promised myself that I would handle your arrangement before mine. I want to ensure that all of my decisions would be solely for your sake and the sake of the Main House,” he answers, staring into the garden and clasping his hands atop his cane. His expression is resolute, and his gaze somewhere in the distance. 

A man always looking ahead.

You wring your hands and frown at yourself. Yes, it would have been a total wreck had you sided with Lord Hayato. Had Sōbei not planned five steps in advance . The Main House―no, the entire Tamahashi Clan―would have certainly been torn in two between your brother and you. Perhaps you should be grateful? 

Nonetheless, you feel rather uneasy at your brother’s calculations, having been part of them unknowingly. Had his intentions been less than savory…

You choose to trust him once again, yet you refuse to be a device for someone else’s ploys any further, even if it is your own brother. He’s caught you off-guard but you’ve never been one to let someone else control you. Now more than ever, you really must be more thoughtful when it comes to matters of the clan.

It’s about time to exercise the powers of your birthright.

With that in mind, you ball your hands into fists.

―

Once back in your own quarters, you sit at a desk and think quietly for a few hours. You need to do something about your situation, and for that, you will need allies. 

The vassals are a given―only for as long as your brother’s authority is challenged, but to avoid escalation to another clan feud it cannot be by you. Lord Hayato will have to continue to play that role until you find yourself in a more favorable position. To protect the interests of your brother and the clan as a whole, your movements with the vassals will have to be discrete.

And on that note, siding with Lord Hayato is undoubtedly out of the question. The other elders of the Main House also have their own agendas that you would rather not probe too closely and, again, you don’t want Sōbei to become so powerless that someone else starts getting dangerous ideas.

You know that your mother has some extent of authority among the noblewomen and a few elders, but the limits of those reaches are a mystery to you―as are her motives since, clearly, marrying you off to the Kuchiki Clan aligns with those. You’re more inclined to believe that she’s a closer ally to your brother’s will than yours.

Outsiders are a no-go as well. There is possibly nothing worse for the clan than publicly announcing that there is conflict between its major forces. 

As much as you don’t want to admit, you’re running out of options.

Besides the one that is blatantly in front of you.

Yet a few moments of struggling later, you settle on the idea. 

Gritting your teeth, you quickly draft a note in neat, practiced calligraphy. Once it’s dry, you slide it into an envelope and stamp the lip delicately with the Tamahashi Clan’s sigil in red ink: an arched bridge before the rising sun surrounded by three inverted crescent moons. Then, you catch a trusty handmaiden who’s awaiting orders outside your doors and hand her the letter. 

“Send a messenger to deliver this to Lord Kuchiki Byakuya,” you pause and, remembering the man’s final term of marriage, remove a jade pin from your hairdo to place atop the letter, “and bring this gift to Lady Kuchiki Rukia.”

You really don’t want to have to deal with Byakuya so soon, but there is no better time than now to have a nice, long chat about your shared future.

Chapter Text

- Hesitation -

The Kuchiki Clan received the news of the engagement with absolute delight―so much that Byakuya reckons he’s never seen such elation on the faces of the elders present at the meeting at home. Thinking back, he’s not really ever done anything else to warrant such an expression, and most of the other major events to be celebrated in his life have been accompanied by misery or solemnity. If anything, this is a very real indication of just how prominent the Tamahashi Clan’s negative influence has been for his own clan.

Byakuya recalls your almost smug expression when speaking to him at the Tamahashi Manor, and narrows his eyes. Annoying . Almost as annoying as all the signs that he’d missed―the sandals, the jade bead in your hair, the Kidō Corps for crying out loud. The brazen, daft girl seen at the 6 th Division had been wiped of all trace, replaced by an equally bold yet alert persona that mocks his lack thereof. 

Embarrassment barely bubbles in his veins before it is crushed, and only at his own naÏveté. He really should have known better than to let his guard down against the Tamahashi.

A bunch of foxes.

Yet despite your clear antagonism and guardedness, somehow you’d managed to not appear too cruel. There was even some art to your taunts that left a mark but not a very painful one―the sort that would make one think but not resent.

And then, for the briefest of moments Byakuya thinks to himself that he could learn from your mannerisms―that he perhaps won’t mind spending some time to observe and understand.

But very quickly, reality settles in again and he is forced to confront the notion of marrying you. Guilt and aversion inflate his chest as he thinks of Hisana, followed by an indescribable emptiness and longing that she’s left behind. Leaving him to suffer alone in life.

He closes his eyes, concentrating on pushing away thoughts of escaping. 

A slight ruffling sound, almost inaudible, catches his attention, and he looks to see a small figure in the doorway of the otherwise empty meeting hall.

“Rukia.”

“Brother,” she greets and hesitates at the entrance, unsure whether it is appropriate for her to enter such a formal room. The Committee has just departed, yet their presence leaves an air of austerity in its wake. When Byakuya doesn’t respond, she takes it as a sign to proceed, and sits on her heels at the center of the room following a respectful bow. “The engagement―is it true?”

Byakuya’s brow is slightly raised. Has no one informed Rukia of the affair? Else why would she come to confirm with him now? 

Of course. She has almost no presence in the Kuchiki Manor and very little interaction with the Committee or any vassal for that matter―there’s no reason for the clan to go out of its way to tell her.

Forgotten, just like Hisana.

“It is true,” Byakuya pauses to watch the surprise glide in Rukia’s eyes, though her expression is forced into stone in the same fashion as his. “I will be marrying the Lady of the Tamahashi Clan. The preparations are underway.”

He recalls the Committee’s recommendations about the scope of the marriage. From the formal proposal to the ceremony and the post-wedding arrangements, everything must be perfect . All of this concludes to a single point to be made to all:

Lady Tamahashi will be the only official wife of the 28 th Head of the Kuchiki Clan.

She will be the only one officially titled Head Lady of the Kuchiki Clan. She will be the only one to share honor and responsibility with him and his lineage. And when her long days are over, she will be the only one to join him in the Kuchiki ancestral shrine to enjoy prayers and worship for millennia to come.

Byakuya’s eyes shut briefly, and your face dances into his mind. Vibrant and full of life. The clan will not allow Hisana to occupy for another moment what should be―will be―rightfully yours. 

And what about him?

―

It’s several days later when Byakuya hears of you once again.

Not that he’s had any less of your name floating around him; between his duties with the 6 th Division and the Kuchiki Clan, your engagement had been the only matter of concern to the elders. It’s almost as if they’re the ones to marry you or something.

He looks down at the letter in his hand. The handwriting is crisp and smooth, with a subdued flavor of boldness between the strokes―reminiscent of what he’s seen of your character. It it foreign, but he could easily be convinced that it is your own.

You’ve invited him to a private meeting at the Tamahashi Manor on the day that the engagement formalities are to be exchanged.

Which suggests for him to be personally present to an event that he has no prior intention of, because surely having the Kuchiki elders attend is enough respect shown for a marriage he has no private interest in.

Clearly, this is not the case.

Byakuya sighs. What could you possibly want?

His first instinct is to toss the letter, as nothing good could come out of you since setting a precedent―knowing that you dislike him so, why should he bring himself before you just to be mocked again? Before he can execute his action however, his attendant presents a delicate hairpin.

Pale and nearly translucent, it doesn’t take an expert to tell that the stone itself is worth a small fortune. 

“A gift from Lady Tamahashi, milord,” the attendant answers Byakuya’s questioning gaze. “For Lady Rukia.”

Byakuya’s gaze hardens as he stares down at the trinket. The Tamahashi Clan is known to adorn itself in jade, and only the most prestigious members use the finest collections. It’s a great honor to receive one as a gift, even if only for the recognition, though to Byakuya they’re nice to have at best. 

But Rukia is a different story. With no authority of her own within the Kuchiki Clan, the endorsement of Lady Tamahashi is quite substantial: as long as she is within your considerations, the clan will have to take Rukia seriously. 

You’ve kept his words at heart, it seems.

That’s why he cannot refuse, even if you don’t mean him well. And that is why it frustrates him. For the first time in decades does he truly feel control being tugged from his hands.

This marriage was never going to be easy business, but it’s too late to step back now.

―

On the day of the formal engagement, Byakuya leads the convoy of gifts that extend for miles, with such grandeur reflecting the importance of this alliance of two Great Noble Houses. From the slitted windows of his carriage he watches as the inhabitants on the streets come out of their homes to spectate with curiosity and admiration. In the carriages behind his own are two Kuchiki elders―Ietomo and Haruchiyo ―to act on the behalf of his deceased parents, seeing as his aunt seldom leaves her quarters, let alone the Kuchiki Manor. 

At the Tamahashi Manor, the convoy is met with the full extent of the clan’s welcome. Armed guards donned in uniformed robes stand watch, beginning from the moment they step on Tamahashi soil and increasing in number and variety as they approach Main House grounds. A reminder of the clan’s military heritage and influence, and perhaps their own show of appreciation for this engagement.

After all, anyone who wants to stir up trouble has to think twice before acting against such an oppressive force.

The gifts are delivered and the formalities are exchanged without fail. The date of the wedding has been decided on the next suitable auspicious day two months from now, as divined by Tamahashi Elder Lady Ranka .

Byakuya thinks it’s a bit soon, but others from both houses seem eager to push the wedding as early as possible. Annoyingly, it is understandable.

He has not caught sight of Lady Tamahashi throughout the entire meeting until its end. 

Even more annoyingly, Sōbei gives him the timely excuse, “My sister is waiting to see you in the north garden, Lord Byakuya. Shinobu will take you to her.” He even presents a sly, knowing smile.

Byakuya’s eye threatens to twitch. Knowing what , exactly? Nonetheless, he follows the quiet scar-faced attendant away and into foreign quarters. 

Past multiple gardens and corridors, Shinobu finally stops before a pavilion on a small isle carved by the clear streams and guarded by handmaidens armed with menacing spears. White silk surrounds the structure from the ceiling and covers all sides, providing privacy from the attendants and extra shade from the summer heat. Faintly, a silhouette can be seen within. The view is serene and artful.

Indeed, the Tamahashi has put their good land to good use.

“Milady, Lord Kuchiki Byakuya has arrived,” Shinobu announces with a respectful bow before stepping aside from the path. As the handmaidens draw the curtains open, Byakuya adjusts his composure. He’s decided that you will not catch him off-guard again.

“You may go.” Your voice is airy and a little impatient as you dismiss the attendant, certain that he will be immediately reporting on your meeting with Byakuya to your brother regardless. No matter―you have no intention of discussing any secrets today. You look at Byakuya, and then behind him. No one else is present. “Your sister didn’t join you today?”

The man peers at you. “You did not ask for her audience.”

So, I’ve bet right . A smile creeps to your lips. 

“Shame. I was looking forward to seeing her wear the pin; I’m sure it would have looked great on her.” You invite him to sit across the short desk before you and beckon the handmaidens to serve tea and snacks, though Byakuya doesn’t appear to be in the mood to enjoy them. 

Instead, his gaze turns sharp and alert. “What are you trying to say?”

“Just that.” You shrug and lean back comfortably in your cushioned seat, observing―relishing―in Byakuya’s defensiveness. Funny, it was him who requested that you treat his sister well, and yet it is also him who now shields her away. Intriguing , and very foolish of him to confirm his weakness so easily. “She is the sister of the soon-to-be-wed Kuchiki Clan Head, after all. An occasion like this one is more than worthy of her presence.”

“There is no need for―” He suddenly cuts himself short, eyes fixated on you as if trying to read your intentions. 

You raise your eyebrows in an attempt to look friendly and innocent. He’s not too stupid, after all . “You have asked of me to treat your sister as my own, but one with no dignity is no sister of mine.” Your smile is ruthless. “Clearly, the Kuchiki elders will not stoop down to teach her proper conduct, so I shall do it myself.”

Averting his gaze, Byakuya visibly hesitates―how can he not? Is this not what he came for? But certainly, your offer must come with a price. His brows knit as he looks at you again. “What is it that you want of me?”

Your smile immediately turns cheerful as you lean your elbow against the desk, though it only puts the man more on guard―you may as well be rubbing your hands together villainously. “Your support as my husband.” Blegh . Before disgust can sour your disposition, you lift your head proudly. “I want all of Soul Society to know that the Kuchiki Clan views me with high regard, for as long as I am Head Lady!”

Byakuya’s eyes widen ever so slightly, the most emotion he’s betrayed today. What kind of request is this? “Is this,” he gestures behind him, at the carts upon carts of gifts now piled in the storage rooms of the manor. At his advisors that so soon fawn over you when discussed. At the Kuchiki Clan that cannot seem to wait another second to have Lady Tamahashi replace Hisana. “Is this not enough regard?” He sounds almost incredulous.

Yet you smile on as if not hearing him at all, your own gaze resting steadily somewhere in the distance, outside the pavilion. In your eyes, he sees something familiar. Dark and ominous like an overcast cloud. 

A duty greater than him, and greater than yourself.

A destiny not so unlike his own.

Yet past the suffocating veil there is a sparkle. 

A star, growing brighter and brighter.

Chapter Text

- Captive -

You’re not certain that your present meeting is uncalled for, but it is certainly an unexpectedly blunt one.

Before you, Lord Hayato is seated rather casually, or at least much more so since the last time you’d seen him at the Tamahashi Manor. You can’t quite tell whether it’s the location or the company that allows his shoulders to slump comfortably, though you’ve always been aware that he prefers you over your brother. 

A little bit too much.

“Some tea, milady?” His thin mustache bounces slightly as he smiles and presents the filled teacup on the table between you. 

This is the man who had taken over for your late father to train you in your duties as a fighter, and you’ve known every corner of his home since childhood. It was in those days that you would pick up the spear and practice until your mind drowned out the grief, the emptiness, and eventually everything that stood between you and becoming the perfect Tamahashi Lady. And yet every time, you’d wake up to a guest bedroom so carefully decorated with all of your favorite flowers and books. Here, you’d still felt yourself―felt welcome. 

This is a man that truly adores you, despite his differences with Sōbei.

You roll your shoulders back and make yourself cozy in your seat, something that Lord Hayato has always made sure of whenever you visit his estate. 

“There’s no need for the formalities, uncle,” you reply with a smile, to which he chuckles and lightly passes his forefingers across one of the mustaches. A show of familiarity, which you do not refuse.

You both know full well that this meeting isn’t to simply exchange pleasantries. 

After the first couple of rounds of tea and snacks, he is the first to speak again. “Had I known that your brother would use force to put you in such a predicament, I would have been the first to stave him off.” He looks at you―looks for a reaction. “You know that, right?”

“Of course.” Your hand absently plays with the jade kiseru pipe that your father had left behind, a memento that you carry everywhere. A reminder of your responsibilities, your duties―everything that you are.

Silence again.

“My dear niece,” his voice nearly breaks as he stares at you intensely, and you stare back, feeling nothing. You’ve come here prepared, and you make it known. Lord Hayato looks desperate, and it’s a look you know too well. 

Had you been my daughter … 

“Is there no turning back? The elders, the vassals, we are all at but one call to arms away to your bidding. Will you not even give the prospect a―”

“Uncle!” you sigh, finally sensing a twitch in your fingers as you press the long pipe into the table. In sadness, maybe. Anger, perhaps. Disappointment, certainly. Sōbei’s face floats to the forefront of your mind, seeming so clear yet distant. You shut your eyes as he fades away. “I have said to never bring this up again.”

Or else what? You had once threatened your own life and the fall of the Tamahashi Family in exchange for a brief period of peace within the clan, but that was decades ago. You were young, brash, and restless then, and so quick to jump to any and every drastic measure in your arsenal to get your way. But years in leadership and apart from the clan’s influence have buffed out your sharp edges and even you yourself recognize the incredible growth. And now that you’re engaged, you’re not sure you can make the same promise.

That’s the true genius of Sōbei’s ploy, isn’t it? How many birds has he taken out with just this one stone? 

At this point you don’t even really know how to feel about it anymore. You’re just tired of all this mind-bending business that you’re forced to be part of.

And looking at the man across from you, a wry smile pulls at your lips. Just like how you could never bring yourself to harm your brother, no matter what wrongs Lord Hayato’s committed, you know they are all for your sake―for the clan’s sake―and how could you ever blame or condemn him? Both of these men, their love―it’s a heavy burden to bear. 

The burden of knowing everything between them and not being able to change any of it.

Your expression is clearly reflected in Lord Hayato’s eyes, and you wonder if he thinks the same thoughts as you?

That despite having the perfect alternative to benefit all of the Tamahashi Clan, the one single-most indispensable cog in the wheel just simply won’t turn to his wishes. But that’s to be expected, no? He’d already lost his only chance decades ago.

Because you’re not his daughter. You’re the daughter of Tamahashi Nagato , the previous Head of Clan.

It’s a bittersweet fate.

Lord Hayato seems to back down and settle in his seat once more. “So you have certainly made up your mind,” he mumbles as he mirrors your wry smile. Yet behind it, you see something else brewing that he does not even bother to hide. It makes you tense, if only a little. “But never forget, niece, that you are loved and needed here. If that man ever wrongs you again…”

A chill runs down your spine. “I know, I know. I’m always welcome back home.” You attempt to pull your smile wider, if only to distract yourself from the venomous look in his eyes.

Oh yes, you know what this man is capable of.

This is a man that truly adores you, and will stop at nothing to put you in the success that he envisions.

―

“Milady.”

“Shinobu.” You’re not surprised to see the retainer waiting just beyond the front gates of the Tamahashi Manor. He’s always the one sent to you to deliver messages from Sōbei, and this time shall be no different. Perhaps it’s your brother’s gesture to allow you to see him a few more times before you become someone else’s wife. 

That’s just as well .

Ever since the official engagement with Byakuya had been decided, Sōbei had generously removed your bindings and allowed you back to your regular duties at the Kidō Corps. Knowing that the next two months will be the last of your official stay as a Tamahashi Lady, you try to return to the manor at the end of each day. In your opinion it’s a bit too short of a reunion with your family, but you suppose you can come back and visit whenever, even after your marriage. Your brother, however, has been making himself rather sparse in your presence, just in case you don’t happen to be particularly thrilled to see him. You consider that a smart move.

There’s a small, kind smile on Shinobu’s lips, starkly blended with the scar upon them. It still pains you to see him like this, but the man seems to have forgotten about it altogether. Or perhaps he doesn’t care. Or perhaps he simply pretends to not see the woe in your eyes. “Lord Sōbei bears great news for you. He awaits in the main hall.”

You tear your gaze away and nod, allowing him to lead the way. Yet time seems to pass by slowly, and traversing the winded corridors and bridged paths of the estate takes a moment longer than usual. The quiet whispers of handmaidens in nearby quarters are muffled by the silence of your mind, and Shinobu’s back―so far, far away from you…

“Milady?” Shinobu calls to you as you both stop before the main hall. You shut your eyes for a brief moment, and smile warmly at him.

“Thank you, Shinobu. For everything.”

―

“ This is the great news you have for me?” After hearing Sōbei’s announcement, you can’t help but whine defeatedly, practically rolling on the floor.

Yet your brother looks more helpless than you are. “It’s tradition, sister, you know that…”

… that a Tamahashi Lady marrying out to a non- oni family must take her betrothed to meet the elders of the Main House―to judge his character and deem him worthy or not of her hand. It’s pretty bullshit , but for a Great Noble House so deprived of valuable daughters as the Tamahashi, one really can’t say that anything else is to be expected.

“I just want to be done with all this thinking and dancing around the old―” you stop yourself before you can curse out the most respected members of your clan, and hold your face dejectedly. “If I knew it was going to be this complicated to get married, I’d rather go to Hell than let you push me into it!”

“Sorry, it’s all my fault, I know,” Sōbei consoles your outburst in an equally light-hearted and comedic tone, and laughs when he dodges a right-hook from you with anticipated grace. “But the list is short, and so far you only need to meet with three of them: Uncle Hayato, Lady Ranka, and Lord―”

“Great-uncle Saichirō ?” You guess hopefully.

To your dismay, Sōbei shakes his head. “Your next visit will be to Lord Furuto , father’s youngest brother―you remember him. But don’t worry―he has not spoken in objection to your engagement.” Your disdainful look is only met by another chuckle as he pulls out a neat envelope from his sleeve. “But Lord Saichirō did send you a letter.”

“Give me that!” You pluck the envelope from his fingers and take a moment to examine the envelope first. The seal is the Tamahashi crest, alright. You beam brightly as you read the letter: “‘To my dearest great-niece’―see, that’s me!”

“Settle down, brat.” Sobei ruffles your hair and you stick your tongue out at him. 

You continue through the letter. “He says he can’t make it to the meetings, but he will be back for the wedding. I guess the Central 46 has him totally occupied these days.”

If there is one man in your life with whom you only associate fond memories, it would be Furukawa Saichirō , the previous Head of House Furukawa, which is a branch of the Tamahashi House. While Lord Hayato taught you everything you know about the military, Lord Saichirō taught both you and your brother on how to handle the political intrigue that surrounds every fiber of your existence. Granted, you still consider yourself nowhere near the level of aptitude of Sōbei, but seeing as your great-uncle is now a serving wise man in the Central 46 you couldn’t have asked for a better mentor. He also makes an impeccable cup of tea, if that’s worth anything.

You suddenly are looking forward to your wedding day far more.

“That’s a shame, but we will make his return a welcomed one.” Sōbei smiles playfully as he produces a small jade item. The signet of the Tamahashi Head. “So, shall I break the news to your fiancé? Or will you do the honors?”

Once again you snatch the trinket from his fingers. It is cold to the touch, like the official authority it represents. “Like hell I’m letting you.” Any clan elder would faint at your impudence and disregard, but your brother’s smile only widens. 

“Well, have fun!”

―

The walk to the 6th Division isn’t a short one, but you’ve got a good memory, having been there three times by now. Those days are so distant, despite only being… several months or so? Today is different, however. Maybe you’ve emerged from your imprisonment at the Tamahashi Manor a different woman, but your spirit feels light and airy as you stroll down the streets of Seireitei towards your destination. 

Or maybe it’s because you’ve actually finished your paperwork… for the morning, at least.

When you find the familiar set of buildings, you pause and consider whether you want to walk in from the front entrance like a civilized being. But no, you’re feeling a bit rebellious today. You don’t want to think about doing what’s right. You don’t want to think, period .

So you take a leap and land silently on the roof, and again onto the next, and the next… until you find a window much larger than the others in its vicinity, and slide through it with muted agility.

The aroma of mouth-watering tea engulfs you, and you take a nice big whiff of it. “Slacking off now, are you?”

Byakuya’s head swivels, but in the span of time he looks behind him you’ve already danced around and planted your behind firmly on his desk, nearly knocking over a stack of papers. 

“Over here, slowpoke. Gee, if I were an assassin you’d be looking for your own head by now.”

“What are you doing here?” Something akin to a hiss escapes him, but as soon as it makes itself known it sinks back down into that deep stillness he wears. Hell , the man doesn’t even move from his chair. “And my desk is not meant to be sat on. Get off.”

You were about to, but his words sound awfully noisy to your ears, so you smile tauntingly. “And what if I don’t?”

Byakuya’s steel gaze meets yours in a clash of resolution, but you can’t be intimidated by such things. It’s as if staring contests are commonplace between you now, even for having interacted with him only a handful of times. His eyes narrow slightly, and at the smallest onset of movement you immediately pull yourself away, the memory of his own guile from your previous battle still fresh in your mind.

“Not today!” You hold the Tamahashi signet out and between the two of you as a ward. “I come with a message from the Head of my clan!” To make a point you wave it a bit, but the man only spares it a short glance.

“Off.”

So stubborn! You cross your arms and smirk down at him, showing no trace of intention to obey. “I’m the Kidō Corps Commander, you know. Your little tricks won’t work on me again.”

He shuts his eyes briefly and sighs, probably oh so annoyed right now. At least it’s something. “Some Commander you are; to even have been defeated by Sai is a disgrace.”

“You want to give that another try? I won’t go easy on you this time,” You retaliate, preparing for him to make a move, but he doesn’t. 

Instead, Byakuya simply relocates his papers from your side to safety and sips his tea, seemingly bored of your antics already. Gosh , for a second you don’t know if you’d rather be the one drinking the tea or be the tea, but you immediately brush the intruding thought away as it’s clear he’s dropped the subject of your insolence. Inert, like a fist punch thrown on a pile of cotton. Tsk, fine .

“There’s a tradition of ours, as I’m sure you’re aware already. My brother sent me to inform you of the dates that we meet our clan’s elders. Lord Furuto is no problem, but as part of our agreement I thought I should let you know what to watch out for with the other two.”

Byakuya’s gaze finally lifts from his teacup, but he’s not looking at you.

“Lady Ranka is our last living previous Kidō Corps Commander, who’d retired almost five hundred year ago. She isn’t very imposing, but you shouldn’t let your guard down. As for Lord Hayato…” You pause. Nothing you say will make him happy . “... Just let me do the talking. Hey, are you even listening?”

“Someone is coming. You need to go.”

You frown a little. What, are you some unsightly devil unworthy to be found together with him? Or is he hiding some paramour outside of your knowledge? Hmpf , that may be just as well, but you’d rather die than budge to make room for explanation to another woman of his. Dignity is at stake here! 

“No way, I have nothing to hide!” On a whim you suddenly grab his hand and― oh , not the side with his tekkō glove―stamp the signet on his palm, leaving the Tamahashi crest in red ink blatant against his fair skin. “You’re my property; now let’s see if someone dares try me.”

He looks visibly stunned. “I’m… what?”

Then, there’s a knock on the door, and you both jerk towards it.

“Captain, I have the documents you asked for.” A voice sounds from outside, and is vaguely familiar. It is also distinctly male .

Barely a second later, you make a smug face of realization as you turn to Byakuya. If you could feel another’s emotions, you would taste the dread of impending trouble in his mind. Immediately he turns back to the doorway.

“Come again in―”

“Come in!”

There’s the briefest pause of contemplation from the visitor before he enters, and that is all the time you get to relish in the look of absolute affront that Byakuya gives you before it inevitably descends again into the look of indifference that you’ve so soon come to associate with him. Besides, the expression of pure shock and outrage from the red-haired visitor at seeing a woman so casually seated atop his respected Captain’s desk and holding his hand with such intimacy behind closed doors… is far more amusing.

“You’re…”

You make quick work to pry control of the situation from Byakuya before he can stop you. “Ah, it’s you, pineapple-head!” You turn to look at your fiancé and pout in the most dramatic way you could picture. He looks horrified, but that might be just your imagination. “He yelled at me the other day, you know. Won’t you do something about him?”

Byakuya stands, eyes cold and dangerous. “Enough, you will lea―”

“I know, I know, you’ve got business and I’ll leave you to it.” In one swoop you dance behind the desk and prepare your escape, all the while continuing to smile innocently at your now-clearly-furious betrothed and completely ignoring his still-stunned subordinate in the doorway. “Don’t forget our dates~”

And as swiftly as you’d arrived, you’ve disappeared from sight again.

Chapter Text

- Unity -

The room that Sōbei finds himself in is not too unfamiliar. He remembers coming here for the first and last time decades ago, and the décor has not changed much since his visit. At least, the sheer luxury of the interiors has remained the same, what with jewels decorating every piece of expensive furniture and the liberal use of agarwood filling the chamber with a richly pleasant aroma. 

In the past he had arrived with urgency, desperate and vengeful after the words that his dear sister had spoken to him. In this visit, however, even the air that he breathes is light and sweet.

Victory is nigh, and he will savor every last bit of it.

Before him is the hunchback figure of an old woman adorned with riches befitting of her noble name and past service. But only he knows of the atrocities that she’d partook in.

“I thought I'd told you to never come back here.” Her cloudy eyes, though usually pressed into mere slits, now glare at him with a subdued ferocity and anger that alludes to her vicious nature. 

The nature that perhaps all Tamahashi women share.

“The matter concerns my sister. You must understand, Elder Ranka,” Sōbei replies with a calm smile. “I only want to make sure that all goes smoothly.”

The Lady laughs under her breath, a vile raspy sound, really. “Yes, that is what you said last time. Do you take me for a fool?”

Despite the clear menace in her voice, Sōbei leans back comfortably in his seat. The old him would have been―and truly had been―intimidated by her influence, but ever since she’d relented in the past he’d known that he is in control. “Of course not. But I must remind you of the importance of this marriage and our efforts… and your own role in it.”

Elder Ranka clenches her fist around a golden walnut of a plaything, her joints cracking loudly in protest. “You threaten me, brat?”

“I would not dare.” But Sōbei’s smile taunts her as he slowly stands, his leg weak and imbalanced. “We are in the same boat; it would be unsavory for us both if word of that escapes. Everything that we do is for the Clan, and I’m sure you would like to see this arrangement go through as much as I do.” His smile widens still, looming over the elderly woman with a venom of his own. “The gifts are underway, and you may expect a few great treasures gifted by the Kuchiki Clan. Consider it… repayment.” 

When he slides the screen door open, he is met with Shinobu, who passes him his cane. As Sōbei steadies himself he takes one last look at the elder, still glaring at him. “Well, I hope we never meet again.”

Elder Ranka remains seated and unmoving, even long after the departure of the Tamahashi Head from her estate. Many long moments later, a snarl escapes her wrinkled lips, and with a soft groan the golden trinket collapses in her hand.

“... Rascal!”

Chapter Text

- Amiability -

Renji thinks he must be going mad.

In actuality, he thinks his Captain must be going madder .

Standing in the doorway, helpless and having no idea where to put his hands and feet, Renji starts to feel a bit faint. He’d thought he heard wrong earlier, when it sounded as if there were sounds inside the room―though it’s quite preposterous to even imagine that his Captain might somehow have a woman’s voice―and he really should have trusted his better judgment and not opened those doors. Had he a choice he would rather not have gotten out of bed today at all, as this must be a nightmare.

But the fuming aura around Byakuya clearly states otherwise. Even only facing his back, Renji senses the temperature in the room plummet as he tries to imagine what the man’s expression might look like, but finds no purchase for his thoughts. 

“Uh, Captain?” He’s quite astonished right now, though unsure whether it’s of having witnessed a likely scandalous scene with his superior, or that the man was with a woman in the first place.

And who was this person, anyway, Renji having seen her at the 6th Division twice with no explanation? Last he’d heard, Byakuya is still widowed, so clearly not a spouse. A lover? Renji would sooner believe the man is involved with him than the insolent excuse of a lady he’d just seen vanish. A friend? But what kind of friend would Captain Kuchiki of all people allow such a gesture… 

A million thoughts dance across his mind in the span of a few seconds, yet when Byakuya finally turns to acknowledge him all he sees is the calm, austere man he’d known all this time. Truly as if the whole debacle had been an illusion.

But before Renji could breathe his relief, Byakuya tells him, “Do not speak of this.”

Renji doesn’t even remember how he’d left the room. He has a lot about life to rethink right now.

Truthfully, so does Byakuya.

The plan to protect his subordinate from you has failed―Renji’s shock and confusion did not elude him, but instinctively he knows that situations like these only look worse the more one explains. 

In any case, there was not much he could have done… right?

He could have enforced his will and authority that you behave yourself in his office. He could have used force and thrown you out the building himself. He could have made a scene and ensured you never return to the 6th Division.

But in your defiant eyes he’d seen it again. That glint of light desperately trying to escape a smothering shadow. 

It’s by no mistake that you were here, acting the way you did. You’d come deliberately, looking for a fight.

And he was just an accessory to be bullied and abused because you do not care for him. There is safety in not caring―he knows because he’s been there.

How he wishes someone could have been there for him when he needed it most. 

So perhaps it was a lapse in judgment, perhaps a weakness in his character, or perhaps he just didn’t want to see that spark get extinguished like his own―Byakuya had relented. No , he’s not soft , just… 

“You’re my property.”

A self-mocking sneer barely leaves him. Well, maybe he’s destined to owe this debt to you.

As Byakuya reaches for his brush, something rolls across the surface of his desk to the edge and he swiftly catches it before it falls. A long, skinny trinket clearly made for smoking lies in his hand, delicately carved from an entire piece of icy stone that is, for all intents and purposes, not meant to be thrown around like a toy. A wisp of jasmine lingers on it, reminiscent of the breeze you’d carried in with you as you danced across his desk like some frolicking sprite out of a folk fantasy―whimsical and enticing.

The item was not here before―is this another ‘gift’ of yours?

No . 

By now Byakuya already has a fairly clear overall picture of your character: a fickle and cunning―though not ill-willed―imp with stingy morals who never misses an opportunity to gain something for herself in a situation. Not a chance that something this expensive comes for free from you, and since you hadn’t mentioned it…

… You’re also very forgetful, it seems . 

He recalls the first instance that the two of you had met―how you’d collided into his dreary but tolerable days completely unannounced and, at the time, unwelcomed―and even then he’d not remembered you too unpleasantly. He hadn’t discerned it at the time, but now begins to grasp the reason. 

The intense vibrancy you’d boasted then had blinded him, yet as soon as you’d disappeared he’d felt his world engulfed by the same darkness that’s stalked him his entire life. The same void in which he used to find solace and comfort by imagining―hallucinating that his parents, grandparents, Hisana ―still accompany him. The same void that he is so familiar with, yet is now beginning to loathe.

Beginning to fear anew.

The sun is only missed when night falls.

And so selfishly, it only returns to be cherished ever more.

He looks down at the print on his palm―three tiny crimson moons seeping into his skin like blood, and feels not only warmth but also a creeping despair in his gut. 

Each time the two of you meet, it seems that you’re always leaving behind a piece of yourself for him to pick up. 

And for one reason or another, time and time again like a withering seedling deprived of light, he chases after every flicker that you’ll spare him.

―

The secrecy of the Kidō Corps has always been its operations, but not its location. 

Situated conveniently within the Senzaikyū palace, its tall towers and multitude of halls seem to not only overlook the prisons said to house the worst and most dangerous of criminals, but also survey the entirety of Seireitei itself. So mighty and solemn. How honored must it be to obtain such a privilege?

And to think that someone with your disposition runs it… Having met you several times he is far more convinced that so-called secrecy is just a matter of never crossing paths in business than anything pertaining to some dark and elusive nature.

It seems simultaneously out of place and completely befitting―discipline is definitely warranted when it comes to you, yet as a warden of a collection of jail cells it feels more… unsettling. 

By the time Byakuya arrives at the seat of the Kidō Corps, dwarfed by its stature in such close proximity, he questions once more whether he’d been wrong to have come here. Indeed, he’s no such criminal, and why should he be the one to return a lost item when you were the one to intrude and make a mess in his office?

Actually, he knows the answer to that already: because if he doesn’t, sooner or later you’ll come to retrieve the pipe and make an even bigger mess while you’re at it.

But surely he could have pretended he didn’t have a clue and―what, tossed it outside and have you go through lost-and-found? The mere idea seems a waste of effort to resolve a matter so trivial. Confronting you here, however, leaves him without a single idea of how you would react, though perhaps one could easily consider that a simple retaliation to your own sudden arrival.

What does he care for what you think, anyway?

This whole development has been foolish enough.

“Captain… Kuchiki?” The watchmen on duty sound completely clueless as Byakuya approaches the gates, perhaps recognizing him―or his rather unique accessories. It would not be a far fetch to assume there may be other members of the Tamahashi Clan serving in the Kidō Corps. The nobility is always looking after its own―that is both a power and a responsibility. “Is there something we can help you with?”

“I am here to see your Commander.”

“The Commander? She is at the top of the tow―” One watchman who’s quick to reply is silenced by a look from his fellow guard, though Byakuya can’t tell much more due to their full-face masks.

At least they are far more amicable than expected, with all things considered.

“Do you have a meeting arranged? I will report your arrival to her in case she is… er, busy,” the other guard says.

Byakuya is a little suspicious, though not at the fact that you’ve evidently made a habit of being missing from your post. Is it really so easy to enter the Senzaikyū, let alone meet with the Kidō Corps Commander? Or is it a simple fact that they all know about the upcoming marriage and therefore trust him? That’s quite naïve, is it not? He hasn’t even stated his purpose yet, not that he is quite intending to, and for all these guards know he might be here to release some criminal or cause property damage. 

Nonetheless, Byakuya owes these men no explanation should they not ask for one―it’s really your own fault for not assigning tighter security, but it’s not like he came here with malicious intent. Besides, reporting to you would entirely defeat the purpose of his visit to settle the return of the trinket discreetly, especially since it’s been a few days and you’ve clearly not even remembered that it’s been misplaced.

A tiny, devious thought wiggles into his brain. If it’s a game of trades that you like to play, he wouldn’t mind entertaining it a little longer.

“I am returning a favor. Will you stop me?” It’s really less of a question than a taunt, and Byakuya hasn’t challenged something so boldly in a long time. He must admit it feels somewhat strange, and oddly exhilarating. Maybe it’s a trait of yours that’s growing on him, and he must stop it. 

… But not for now.

The watchmen hesitate, and he knows that it must be due to the engagement, and although the prospect of marriage has been plaguing him recently, it’s certainly a benefit at hand in the present matter. It also speaks volumes about your prestige once more, despite the utter foolishness that he’s beginning to get accustomed to. 

There must be a reason behind it―one that he’s not seen yet.

He takes a step forward, and the men back one up. Another, and another, until his silhouette brushes past them and into the palace uninhibited. 

From behind, he barely hears one of them whisper, “Will we still be here tomorrow…?”

Once inside, Byakuya immediately notices that the Kidō Corps members, contrary to popular belief, actually do have faces, though most of them appear incredibly surprised―some horrified, even―to see him marching down the corridors and alleys that divide the buildings as if he owns them. None of the acolytes actually bother to give him directions―not that he’s asked nor needs any―as they kind of just… stare. It reaffirms the idea that the organization must not be used to receiving visitors, and their trailing gazes make him subconsciously stand a little straighter. 

Whether he likes it or not, his presence here will be a remembered one.

Unsurprisingly, in the same manner that no soldier has made an approach on him, not a soul has attempted to stop him from reaching his destination either. Granted, perhaps it just so happens that none want to follow him in scaling the gods-forsaken stairs that lead up all the way to the apex of the white tower situated in the center of the palace―and the center of Seireitei. 

The walk up is dark and dreadful, with tiny windows lining the walls providing only mere glimpses of the outside world, though mostly of the Sōkyoku Hill and an impending doom. The cells along the climb are obscured by heavy, sealed doors that evoke a bit of prying, but Byakuya considers that he has no interest in ever visiting such a place, thus suffocating the sprout of curiosity of what’s behind them.

At the top he enters a hallway with another set of imposing doors and two more guards standing watch on either side. A handsome young man speaks to them before the doorway, notepad in one hand and the other pocketed casually in his colorful overgarb, clearly some sort of seated officer or equivalent and, judging by his comfortable demeanor, likely belonging to the local institution. As Byakuya emerges from the stairway they turn and watch him with the same shock and stillness as the others below. 

“The kenseikan … You must be Captain Kuchiki of the 6th Division. What business might you have with our Corps?” The young man recovers quickly, however, and a warm smile forms at his lips, though Byakuya can’t say he feels the warmth it’s meant to convey. Instead, it leaves a sticky and uncomfortable sentiment, like cold sweat and molasses.

If anything, it reminds him of the smile worn by Ichimaru Gin . His brows furrow slightly.

How can you fare with such a… baleful character at your side?

Byakuya quickly decides that it’s not a matter for him to dwell on for longer than necessary. “Is your Commander inside?” 

Like the other Kidō Corps guards at the entrance of the Senzaikyū, the young man hesitates as he looks at his comrades, and then a sound between a snicker and a giggle escapes him. “Well, that’s… there’s only one way to find out.”

He takes a half-step aside, and Byakuya takes it as an invitation. It’s frankly almost baffling how this strange man can dictate whether someone can just enter the Kidō Corps Commander’s office, and for a moment Byakuya questions if there’s a trap lying in wait.

No , he’s made sure to suppress his spiritual pressure while on his way―in the same fashion as you seem to oh-so enjoy―and neither you nor the Kidō Corps could have possibly known beforehand that he would show up. Besides, given the unkempt state of the place that he’s seen so far, he’s uncertain if any more care is warranted. Your actual authority remains unseen.

The door is heavy and silent as it opens, and Byakuya is greeted with the distinct scent of lavender and jasmine even from the doorway. A quick scan inside reveals an enormous and mostly-empty room with only a few bookcases surrounding the wide desk in the center, situated before a panoramic open window. Two military sand tables are placed at either corner near the front of the room, along with their auxiliary drawers and cabinets. The walls on either side lead out onto large balconies where planters of various sizes can be briefly seen, making the office appear more like a giant veranda than anything else. 

Just as he steps past the doors, his gaze briefly meets that of the young man looking at him from the hallway.

Cold. Poisonous .

Byakuya slams the door shut behind him.

“ Shit! ” Your voice echoes from the large desk in the middle of the spacious office as your brush clatters to the papers stacked before you, spilling ink everywhere. “For heaven’s sake , Jun, I’ve told you a thousand times not to make so much noise! Now look what you’ve done―how am I supposed to finish my work now? You can clean up this mess while I―AH!” You scream in terror and practically fall out of your chair when you finally look up and realize that it is in fact Byakuya who stands ominously before the doors and not your Vice-Commander. “What in the world are you doing here?” 

He raises a pretty eyebrow, though whether in amusement or discontent you cannot tell. “Slacking off again, are you?”

This all sounds oddly familiar … 

Immediately you scramble to your feet and climb the large open window behind you, preparing your escape. “I’m not here! Come again tomorrow! Eek!”

“Are you looking to die?” As if already predicting your attempt, Byakuya nearly teleports next to you and grabs the collar of your uniform from behind, and you nearly gag as you fail to jump out the window with one leg hanging out the ledge dangerously. 

“Wha―you―let go of me!” You barely get a chance to struggle before he yanks you back and away from the window, putting himself between you and freedom―or a swift and untimely death, perhaps. You quickly gather yourself in a shuffle of steps, ending up a good distance from both him and the door as you glance at both back and forth. Goddamn , with that kind of speedy footwork of his there’s no way you can reach any escape route.

Wait, escape? That’s not right . Escape from what?

You glare at Byakuya warily and hold your hands up into fists. “Did you come to fight? You’re on my territory; I’ll have you know―”

“So noisy.” He sighs, and you suddenly feel a lot more indignant than you already are.

“You come to my house and have the audacity―” You’re interrupted again, but this time you cut yourself off as he pulls out a shiny, endearing jade pipe from his sleeve, and you recognize it instantly. You pat yourself down, and curse yourself mentally at not even having noticed that you’d lost your father’s memento. 

In an awkward attempt you make a ruse of laughing sheepishly at your betrothed. “That’s mine; how kind of you to come here to return it! I always knew you’re the best, Lord Kuchiki!”

But as you approach him for it, he pulls it back and out of reach, this time seemingly examining the trinket closely. Your face immediately falls begrudgingly. “Really? You’re the worst!” 

And why is this happening again?!  

Just as you’re beginning to contemplate using force for real this time, Byakuya peers at you with a look that borders the cusp of disappointment―the sort that a snotty kid might have when they realize their practical joke isn’t nearly as funny as they’d originally believed―and holds the pipe out to you. 

In an all-too-annoyingly-familiar haze of awful déjà-vu you give him a long, questioning glare and, finally having convinced yourself that he’s not tricking you, snatch the trinket and clutch it against your chest for dear life.

“So you know what’s good for you,” you huff. You have to imagine him rolling his eyes, but you’re sure it’s what he’s thinking.

“Had enough?” Byakuya suddenly asks. You may be wrong, but despite his cold and placid expression his gaze doesn’t seem so sharp anymore. “Don’t lose it again―if it’s something that is important to you.” 

For a second you wonder what he means, but when you finally recognize the tiniest glint of sympathy in his eyes you make a pout and turn away.  

“... None of your business.” You end up grumbling under your breath. You don’t need that kind of understanding, especially not from him.

What does he know about you, anyway?

There is a rather long stretch of silence before Byakuya speaks again, “I suppose in your terms, you now owe me one .”

“Huh?” You look up from the jade plaything and up at your betrothed, barely catching him averting his gaze from you. No, you must have mistaken it, because he’s now staring out through the window. “You’re joking!”

From the corner of his eye he peers at you in a certain manner―as if looking at an idiot, and then looks outside again. You feel the hairs on your head stand in irritation and huff again―but that’s all you can do because he’s not wrong .

Not only did you commit a public act that could only be described as scandalous or defaming―even as his own fiancée―thus technically breaking your own rule, but there’s also no good reason for him to go out of his way to return the memento to you. He surely could have waited for you to make a fool of yourself in its search again, and even then could easily demand the same exchange. Granted, it was your own doing that led to this situation in the first place, so you can’t really say you blame him for thinking he can get something out of it. 

Yet staring up at Byakuya’s side profile, you wonder to yourself what must have happened to make him come to you willingly, all the while the man betrays nothing as he refuses to meet your gaze like some grumpy old cat. Or hiding something .

With difficulty you stifle a laugh and throw your empty hands out in surrender, and he finally gives you an annoyed glance. “Fine, fine! Ask away.”

Perhaps you’ve given in too soon and too easily, but to you he truly looks dumbfounded―if you can even begin to picture what that might look like. He touches his chin in thought, and once more you question whether he was created by the gods because good heavens how can a man’s chin be so attractive.

At least in this engagement you have salvaged something for your sanity. Or insanity.

“I have not yet thought of it―it will have to wait.”

Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “You’re just taking my lines left and right! Can’t you come up with something original?”

Byakuya stares at you with no expression, and again―frustratingly―you decipher his look: Unoriginal or not, it sure is effective .

Whatever good you’d thought about this marriage, scratch that. This man is insufferable.

You sulk for a bit, and as you turn find that, to your dismay, he hasn’t left the window. In fact, dare you say he even looks rather comfortable loitering in your office?

“Well, why are you still here? I’m not having you around for lunch, if that’s what you’re wondering,” you grumble as you sit atop your desk and spin the jade pipe across your fingers. If anything, you’re about to use it to go beat some sense into whomever allowed Byakuya in here in the first place, starting with Jun because you’re pretty sure that disgusting brat is hiding somewhere to laugh at your disposition.

“When do you intend to meet Rukia?” Byakuya asks.

“Uh, after the wedding?” You tilt your head at him inquisitively. “I won’t be Lady Kuchiki until then; I don’t have the right to instruct another noblewoman on how to act.”

“You will once I introduce you to her.” He pauses at the questioning look you give him. “The wedding will be her first encounter with another Great Noble house en masse―I do not want any misbehavior from her.”

“You’re worried that she’ll embarrass you?”

He turns to you sharply, and for a second you could swear you saw a flash of panic across his eyes. It’s gone before you can confirm it as he’s looked away and through the window again. 

“I do not want the others to weaponize her nerve,” he finally says.

You can’t help but narrow your eyes suspiciously. Why is Byakuya so darn protective of this adopted sister, and to mention her constantly like this? You’d heard from your sleuths that she’d been taken into the Kuchiki Family due to her close resemblance to his first wife―so what is this, some kind of maladroit redirection of love and romance? Throughout your upbringing you’d heard your own fair share of troubled fates and theatrical tragedies among the noble households―and that is absolutely not something that you want to even think about getting yourself remotely involved with. You’d sooner pull your foot out of this engagement again than become entangled in such a mess.

“Is there something between you that I should know about?” You cross your arms and ask with skepticism.

You can tell Byakuya is a little frozen because he forgets to blink, but he soon shakes his head and when he looks at you again, all you see is clarity in his eyes. Eyes devoid of emotion―eyes not belonging to a liar. You relax your gaze, which even you feel has become rather stabbing.

Good enough for me .

Granted, had his response been a lie, it’s not like you would just idly sit by and be humiliated again. 

“So will you meet her?”

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t see why not, but I’ll let you know―I don’t work overtime for free.” 

Byakuya closes his eyes. “You don’t work at all.”

“That’s not true! This is your fault!” Yet despite your claims you slide the papers away and shuffle yourself closer to him with a mischievous smile, causing the man to look at you warily. “Anyway, I hear that the Kuchiki Manor has some nice gardens―surely you must have one or two that are vacant?”

He furrows his brows. “Yes?”

“How about you let me renovate a few of them? You see these babies,” you gesture at the happily-flowering plants on your balconies. “They could use some fresh soil―and I could use some show of endorsement. Imagine this: ‘ Lord Kuchiki is so happy for his marriage that he devotes an entire courtyard for his Lady wife―all to make her comfortable and familiar in her new home .’ Wow, doesn’t that sound amazing?”

Byakuya’s expression is blank. “No.”

You wave a hand dismissively. “Don’t write it off too soon; I’ll have you know that I’ve got something of a green finger myself,” you boast, kicking your feet lightly as if already prepared to get your hands dirty. Your smile even turns a little smug as you practically look at him with your chin. “Besides, if I’m to teach your sister how to behave around nobility, we’ll eventually get to the classical arts. It would help to have a dedicated space.”

As expected, the moment that you bring up his sister he hesitates with silence. You wonder if others in the Kuchiki Clan notice this as well? Certainly, they must… right? 

If so, it may have been too early to put your faith in his ability to support you, as anyone can use this Rukia as leverage to get something out of him. On the other hand, if what you’d previously assumed about the Kuchiki Clan neglecting her is true, then that would mean they either don’t know or don’t care. 

Well, if there’s anything that you know, it’s that the nobility would never allow such an obvious weakness to go unpunished. Just look at what you yourself have been doing!

And if that’s the case… 

What makes you the exception?

There is a breeze, and you look up from thought to find the room empty and silent. Not a single trace of evidence that your betrothed had ever been here. If not for your desktop in shambles, you could have easily convinced yourself that this had all been just a fantastical dream. Even then, you speculate that perhaps you’d made the mess while taking a nap, as it wouldn’t be the first time.

You shrug your shoulders, and make your way out of the office to show your subordinates some discipline . You’ve been letting these goons slack off for too long to even allow the prospect of an intrusion into your head.

The wind rustles the leaves of your plants, making you pause and turn at the doorway. There is nothing here but the comforting scent of the flowers and the warmth of the midday sun.

You don’t notice that there is a small branch missing from one of the blooming jasmines.

Snapped off at the stem. 

Pinched .

Chapter Text

- Promise -

It’s been many years since the last time you’ve seen Lord Furuto, the youngest of your father’s siblings. 

It’s not that you have a bad relationship with him. Rather, he seems to have forsaken much of the Tamahashi Clan as a whole in a similar fashion as you had once done, and had taken it one step further yet.

One way or another, your generation and the one immediately preceding it had been littered with tragedies.

As you and your betrothed arrive at Lord Furuto’s home, you can’t help but sigh a little. Humble abode is an understatement.

Well, at least he’s willing to receive the two of you.

Byakuya looks at you with doubt, and all you can do is scratch your cheek sheepishly—you know as much as he does about the situation. “Let’s go inside, I guess.”

The courtyard—if it can even be called that—is only a small enclosure barely surrounding the three-roomed structure within. There is no sign of anyone living here save for an open well in the corner and the barest wisp of smoke from the kitchen in the back. Despite its desolation, the grass is noticeably well-tended to and there’s an obvious lack of dust on the premises. The armed guards bearing the Tamahashi family crest standing watch confirm this is indeed your destination, though you’re fairly certain they’re here for your and Byakuya’s safety rather than your uncle’s. 

Not that either of you need it.

In the center of the main hall is the barely-recognizable Lord Furuto, head shaven and donning a plain, grey monk’s robe. While you’d probably not seen him since his ordination over a century ago, you notice the drastic shift in his demeanor from despondent to the serenity before you—certainly the doing of his monkhood. For a moment you stand there awkwardly, brain juices working in overdrive trying to remember his dharma name.

“Uncle,” you eventually squeeze out a greeting and kneel at the doorway with Byakuya silent beside you. “I present to you Lord Kuchiki Byakuya as my suitor. We pray that we may obtain your favor.”

“I am Kingen .” Kindly, your uncle makes no remark to your failure to recall and invites the two of you to sit on modest mats woven from straw, perhaps the only showing of luxury in sight. He bows gracefully and respectfully. “It is my pleasure to receive you, Lady Tamahashi and Lord Kuchiki.”

“The pleasure is ours,” you say and force a smile that hopefully doesn’t look too sheepish. To speak cautiously , you suppose it’s a fitting name for him, if not too brutally honest. Such is the way that his mentor teaches the virtues that one may lack—by constantly reminding one of what one must do.

“It is an honor to meet you amid your duties, Master Kingen.” Byakuya is surprisingly articulate, at least compared to your lack of awareness. 

Kingen chuckles softly. “All duties are training, and the opportunities are all around us. In nature, and in life.”

Byakuya’s brief glance at you while your uncle prepares tea elicits a clearing of your throat.

You’ve not come that unprepared.

Immediately you begin your crafted monologue about the nature and importance of this marriage, and halfway through your researched spiel about the honorable character of your betrothed Kingen looks and smiles at you in a way that makes you pause. If anything, he’s the one looking a bit sheepish this time.

“Lady Tamahashi, Lord Kuchiki,” he nods at you, and then at Byakuya. “I have come today to witness the distinguished joining of hands of two noble individuals and households. Although the affairs of the material realm no longer are within the dominion of this humble self, it is a celebration nonetheless to tie the vow for peace and prosperity.”

You raise a confused eyebrow.

So it seems you’ve prepared your speech for nothing, after all. Not that these meetings are anything more than a formality at this point, what with the main three parties involved all in favor of the marriage. You’d simply not expected that Kingen would be so fully detached from the Tamahashi Clan—or from the rest of the world, as he put it—though you really should have. Perhaps the gifts of thanks that your brother has sent along will all be donated to the monastery as well, then. Not that you mind, but… 

Is this it?

“So… should we leave, or…?”

Kingen’s smile widens. “I am very much content with bestowing blessings upon a loving couple.”

Both you and Byakuya knit your eyebrows simultaneously, and upon Kingen’s amused chuckle you purse your lips and exchange looks with your… lover . You barely suppress a shudder.

Then, Byakuya holds his hand out to you, and after a moment of hesitation and internal struggle to overcome the repulsion you place your hand in his. Slender, elegant fingers curl around your own in a firm and warm grasp; you have to consciously peel your eyes away. His expression has since returned to its passive state as he turns back to the monk. “May we have your blessings?”

“Certainly.”

—

A day later you meet Byakuya outside the Tamahashi Manor again, preparing for the visit to Lord Hayato. You suppose by now you’re quite used to seeing Byakuya by your side, and all the better sooner than later if you’re going to convince your rather vindictive uncle of this marriage. Even if that man doesn’t have a say in the matter anymore, it would still be troublesome if he went and made public voicings against it.

“I understand that this elder is in opposition of the engagement?” Byakuya asks just as you both arrive and exit your carriages. 

“Yeah. It’s a long story,” you sigh and look up at the manor’s letterings, meticulously etched by your father’s hands themselves not long after you were born. There is no better evidence of the type of bond that they had shared.

What do you have to worry about? 

You glance at Byakuya, whose gaze is inquisitive. But he doesn’t like to be reminded of his past mistakes, you reckon, and neither do you. At least the two of you can agree to push the engagement through, despite your differences. You let your lips curl into a snarky smile before stepping inside. “But you can figure it out on your own.”

The familiar walls of Lord Hayato’s residence become almost suffocating with Byakuya’s presence, as if the hallways aren’t wide enough to accommodate the both of you. Equal status, equal resolve. Strange how even in Kingen’s tiny little room you’d felt only harmony, but while here the two of you are pinned against one another by the nature of your histories.

You shake your head a little to clear your mind. 

No. Just this once, you must stand on his side.

Lord Hayato awaits in the center of the main hall, imposing as ever despite already being seated when you and Byakuya kneel at the entrance. The scorn on his face is evident as he looks upon you two, and for a moment you wonder if he’s also grouped you into his disdain for your fiancé?

You pay him the same introduction of Byakuya, and as expected Lord Hayato makes no gesture to invite him inside the hall even after you’ve entered. You look back, and then at your host again with a soft hiss, “Uncle!”

It’s one thing to show animosity, but another entirely to refuse diplomacy. If anything, Lord Hayato’s performance only makes a fool of himself with its lack of discipline. A shameless act!

Lord Hayato’s gaze on you is scrutinizing, assessing your determination to endorse Byakuya as if he is some hooligan fished out from the most distant of Rukongai’s districts with an absurd plea for your hand. Meanwhile, Byakuya is notably patient and collected, quietly waiting in the doorway for an adequate response.

Seeing as you both won’t falter, Lord Hayato eventually relents begrudgingly. “Lord Kuchiki, please enter.”

The seating cushions have clearly been placed further apart than necessary, so as Byakuya steps in with not a word but all the dignity in the world— as he should , even you can’t help but agree—you reach out and shuffle the two cushions next to each other. The look you exchange with him is brief, but in that moment you gather that he’s accepted your intentions of a truce.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Tamahashi Hayato .” Byakuya’s distant tone shows anything but, and you hazard a guess that it even mocks your uncle’s lack of say in your marriage. Subtle , and not quite what you expect of him in a head-to-head with your elder. You might not have contained a smile if not for the importance of the present matter.

Lord Hayato looks at you, and you look down at your lap in acquiescence of your fiancé’s attitude. He doesn’t bother to conceal a click of the tongue in disapproval. “Hardly. Servants, prepare the tea.”

At least he still upholds basic hosting etiquette.

As the servants bring the readied tea set to the two of you, you stop them just before service. “Allow me,” you say, and proceed to take the teapot and pour for yourself, then for Byakuya.

It’s unlikely, but there’s really no harm in being a little more careful before your uncle—lest he’s put something nasty in the drink. Not that you really care if your betrothed passes away for whatever reason; he just can’t die here—not with any suspicion of foul play from your clan. A quick sip is taken as naturally as you can muster to not insult the elder’s intentions, though as you set down your cup you see that his gaze on you has become even harder.

Sorry, uncle , but you won’t be taking any risks today.

After the first round of tea is over, Lord Hayato’s piercing eyes return to the two of you as a whole. “Lord Kuchiki, I shall not make euphemisms like the others of our clan do; your presence and request for our Lady does not sit well with me.”

You instantly retort, “I will not have such—”

“I hope you will appreciate the severity of your words, Lord Tamahashi,” Byakuya interjects as he places his fists firmly atop the table, commanding silence from his audience. 

You glare at him mildly to silently convey, “I thought we agreed that I would do the talking!” But he doesn’t even look at you and you hold back the urge to roll your eyes at his stubbornness kicking in at the worst of times.

The air turns frigid as you look between the two men with increasing concern that a fight might break out after all, but in the clutch of the situation Lord Hayato seems to keep his cool. A moment passes to allow the relief of bated breath before Byakuya speaks again. 

“It is in the best interest of both our houses to pursue an alliance with each other in times like these—this is a fact, whether you like it or not. In-fighting amongst ourselves benefits only others—or are you so desperate for battle?”

Memory of the previous conversation with your uncle surfaces in your mind; there would be nothing he desires more! Before Byakuya can speak any more militant words, you—as discreetly as possibly allowed—reach under the table and grip his kneecap. The man draws a silent gasp and gives you an incredibly offended glare, to which you withdraw and gently cough into your sleeved hand. 

“That’s enough, we did not come to argue.”

Lord Hayato is quiet for only a brief moment as then a scoff escapes him. 

“You seem to misunderstand my point, Lord Kuchiki. Certainly, Tamahashi honor is on the line with this arrangement, but you forget that our Lady is my niece. I have watched over her since she was a child, and it is both my duty and wish to continue, even more so on matters that concern family.” He looks at you, and you find yourself wondering just how much of his words he truly means even though he’d spoken only facts. “It is just as you said: the marriage will stop the unnecessary in-fighting, but your actions were what began it all. You have wronged her once and I am not convinced you will not again; you will need more than pretty words to sway me in favor of this arrangement.”

You’re about to press the issue that his convincing doesn’t matter , but Byakuya seems determined to take matters into his own hands, “And what would that be? My reputation? My honor?”

“Your honor means nothing to me.” 

Ouch , even you had more finesse than that.

“I want you to swear to protect our Lady’s name and life with your own.” Suddenly, Lord Hayato’s mouth splits into a cruel, devilish smile. “Should you proceed with the marriage, rest assured that I will see to it that you honor your vow.”

Hold on, this is getting out of hand .

Byakuya furrows his brows. “Is that a threat?”

Your uncle merely shrugs. “Make of it what you will.”

Byakuya’s expression lacks any concern, but you immediately grasp onto the meaning of this exchange: even in the final stages of the arrangement Lord Hayato continues to sabotage your marriage! 

“Don’t—”

“I swear with my life to protect Lady Tamahashi—soon-to-be Lady Kuchiki—from all harm to her person, name, and honor.”

Frozen, you stare at Byakuya’s profile. 

Does he not understand what he’d just agreed to? Does he not comprehend that this very act has just pinned your worth against all of the Kuchiki Clan while benefiting neither of you? Sure, if your two families weren’t at each other’s throats until recent months, it would have been to your great pleasure to see him bend the knee… 

Speaking of …

Taking easy vows left and right without a second thought, as if your trust is some cheap commodity—how dare he! Perhaps to him such words mean nothing—you shouldn’t believe in a man who’d broken honor in the first place—but to you and your clan…

And to think this could all have been avoided had he just let you do the talking ! The nerve of him!

You don’t remember the rest of the meeting at your uncle’s manor. You really don’t care, anyway.

With quick steps you storm out from the front gates of the estate, strides ahead of your betrothed, stopping just before heading down to the street where your carriage awaits in hopes of collecting your raging thoughts. Byakuya’s footsteps pause near the gates behind you, and you glare back at him with full intent of making him understand his offense. 

The rays of the midday sun strike his steel eyes at the perfect angle; gleaming and radiant, they pull your soul back into your body.

Eyes so genuine—eyes that don’t lie. They stare at you so innocently.

Only now do you begin to feel the weight of his vow. Your heart races, as if all the time has stopped to allow you to settle into the notion that there is a man outside your kinship—in this universe—who is willing to promise your life above his own.

Here, before you, he is tangible and real.

Don’t trust him , your inner voice repeats, but your gut threatens to follow the faith that his unwavering gaze invites.

How can you blame such a man?

A strange warmth bubbles in your chest, spreading to your fingertips like wildfire. It eviscerates your doubts while simultaneously conjuring them in a vicious cycle of confusion. In the end and at a loss for words, you stamp your foot against the ground.

“I mean it! Let me do the talking next time!”

After you march down the stairs with all the rage of a stampeding bull you turn one last time to glare up at Byakuya, who hasn’t moved an inch from the hilltop gateway. With your hands on your waist, you suddenly feel the necessity to have the final say.

“And do I look like I need your protection?!”

And with that, you climb into your carriage, nearly tearing down one of the curtains with your force.

—

Perhaps it’s the lethargy of the final visit to the Tamahashi elders, or perhaps it is your newfound frustration in this strange arrangement, but your feet are heavy and your voice is exhausted as you introduce Byakuya to Elder Lady Ranka. 

For better or for worse, the shriveled elderly woman seems to not have heard a single word as she sits in a pile of gold-embroidered cushions, eyes shut and completely unmoving, though it is hard to tell whether it’s simply the drooping of her wrinkled eyelids. Even the embers in her pipe seem to have died out, the smoke dissipating among the thick wisps of incense that render the cozy meeting room rather claustrophobic. 

In this manner, the elder’s silhouette resembles some kind of treasure-keeping Buddha.

“... Elder Ranka?” After a comfortable while of waiting for a response, you gently probe the elder with a whisper. How sad it would be if she had missed your recital of the list of gifts that you had brought—there are some really exotic trinkets from the World of the Living in there! You really don’t want to read the long names for a second time.

You call her name again, louder this time, and the elder finally jolts awake though her eyes remain shut. Her vision is poor, which is understandable considering her age of over eight centuries.

“Yes? Oh, indeed, a fine young man. Here, take this…” Elder Ranka mumbles as she reaches with a shaky hand for a jade pendant on the short table between you, and bestows it onto your quiet betrothed. “I have imbued it with a charm, and may it bring you peace in times of need. Us Tamahashi women are blessed with longevity and, well, it would be a shame if our husbands…”

You laugh awkwardly; you’d forgotten how poorly-chosen this elder’s words can be. “Please take it; Elder Ranka’s divinations and spells are known to be effective—” You clasp a hand over your own mouth in mock apology at the annoyed look that Byakuya shoots your way— oops! Turns out you’re just as bad.

That’ll be the highlight of the visit , you reckon. And heavens forbid if my husband lives a short life as foretold… not!

“Thank you, Lady Ranka,” he says plainly and ignores your taunt, but nonetheless accepts the small token and puts it away in his robe. Maybe your advice to stay quiet finally got through to that thick skull of his.

“Now then,” the old woman suddenly begins shuffling to her feet with a short cane for support, what with you being a step late in lending a helping hand in your surprise. “I have something for you too, dear child. Young man, you will excuse us for a moment, yes?”

Byakuya questions you with his gaze, and you shrug your shoulders, not having a clue what this is about. At least, you don’t anticipate Elder Ranka to bear any ill intentions towards him, especially since she was the one who’d decided the date of your ceremony to begin with, but you can never be too sure... As if to answer your concerns, a servant opens the doorway leading to the courtyard outside with a beautiful view of the miniature lake in the near distance. 

“Make yourself at home here, boy. You’ll be on time for your supper arrangements,” Elder Ranka says as she opens a different door within the room and enters, leading the way into darkness. 

You’re instantly a lot more relieved that she knows of the meal to be had with your brother and Byakuya back at the manor, and follow her inside without another thought. The elder shuts the door behind you and you advance.

The corridor is extremely dark and narrow, and seems to lead lower and lower into the ground. You sense, with the dense spiritual energy gathered in the air, that the walls must be constructed with sekkiseki, and there exists some kidō-related mechanism to enter. The secretive nature of such a construct must relate to your clan intimately, and you feel your innards tighten at the thought.

Your suspicions are confirmed when the corridor finally leads to a dark chamber at the end. Elder Ranka lights a single candle that provides enough illumination for the tiny room, revealing walls decorated with faded red paintings of women, many whom you don’t recognize but feel a vague familiarity to. Upon closer inspection, you notice that this familiarity is from your own features to theirs, but you don’t remember there being this many women in your lineage...

“It is as you guess, child,” Elder Ranka says as she brushes imaginary dust off of one painting portraying a beautiful young woman. “These are all of the pure oni-daughters born into our clan. Some, forgotten in time, but never here. Their vows remain forever, even when they themselves do not. And look, there—there you are.” She points to a frame behind you.

The frame is empty.

She beckons you to come closer, and only then do you notice a large, lightly-colored box in her hands. “You know how the saying goes in our family.”

“‘History written in jade; vows written in blood,’” you recite. Kinship is the most valuable resource—this has been taught to you since you were born, and you consider yourself lucky to not have encountered blood enemies of your clan; those have mostly been eradicated. You then look at the elder puzzledly. “So, these forgotten women are…”

“A tale for another time. What I want to show you is this.” She opens the box to reveal a tome carved from sekkiseki. Staring into it, you feel as if your consciousness—no, your entire being—is being slowly but surely sucked into it. Only Elder Ranka’s firm hand on your shoulder brings you back to your senses. “Our clan has many teachings, but to us Tamahashi women, this is the most important to abide by. I meant to pass this on to you when you’d inherited command of the Kidō Corps, but things don’t always turn out the way we want them to… some vows are harder to keep in difficult times.”

You clear your throat, knowing she speaks of the in-fighting between Sōbei and Lord Hayato that escalated shortly before you had been announced as the succeeding Commander. 

“The sekkiseki is our clan’s heritage and privilege, but only the Kidō Commander from our lineage is permitted to fully use it. You have not yet been sworn in to our line of Commanders, so this shall be my final gift to you in your marriage.” She looks at you intensely, dark eyes suddenly open and emitting a chilling stare. “With great power comes great responsibility; I pray that you will be the force to bring peace to our clan once again.”

Yes, your marriage has only ever been with political intent, and nothing is more important than bloodline. The mutual killing of Tamahashi members is taboo, but strange ideas have been weaving into the minds of certain individuals since your father’s death, though you’ve never been able to find incriminating evidence against them. And how could you, knowing that they are led by your dear uncle? To this day he and his vassals still live by the prospect that you might one day take over the role of Tamahashi Clan Head to solidify the power of the Main House if your brother is to pass away by some unfortunate event , but once you marry into the Kuchiki House those dreams will be shattered. 

It is the only way to protect your brother’s life, the Tamahashi Clan, and everything that you—your family—holds dear.

It is a sacrifice that you would make for them any day of the week without hesitation. A Tamahashi Lady is all that you are, and it is the whole of you.

Your determined gaze responds to Elder Ranka in kind, and she nods as she begins to slowly pace around you. With a swift kick to the back of your knees despite her unsteady legs, she brings you to kneel upon the floor.

“Do you, as a Tamahashi Lady and successor of Kidō Corps Commander, accept your duties to the safeguarding of our clan, its history, honor, and values—with your blood and soul?”

“I accept!”

Using the sekkiseki-carved dagger around her waist, Elder Ranka slices your palm open. You bite back a flinch from the searing pain of the wound and watch with bated breath as your blood drips onto the tome to be instantly absorbed. Never before have you felt so anxious, blood boiling in your veins as if pulling and pushing you on the edge of anticipation. You’ve been waiting for this moment all your life! 

“The deed is done.” Elder Ranka begins wrapping a bandage around your hand to halt the bleeding, stopping you in your tracks of using kaidō to heal it. It’s probably for the better, as relief washes over you in a new wave of exhaustion, as if representing the union of your soul with your clan. A sense of belonging that had been missing for so long in your life to reaffirm the meaning of your existence.

The empty frame from before now contains a fresh, photorealistic crimson image of your face. You can’t stop staring at it. In your mind, its features slowly morph and contort into something similar yet so unfamiliar. 

No, you still need something more… 

Elder Ranka then produces yet another box, much smaller this time, and reveals a set of mortar-and-pestle-looking tools. A small smile plays at her wrinkled lips. “From one true Kidō Commander to another, I pass onto you zetsuen-jaraku : our method of capital punishment.”

You look at her in shock. “Our what? ”

Elder Ranka nearly sneers. “Silly girl, why do you think the others in the clan vie for our support constantly? You are aware of the repelling properties of sekkiseki that we traditionally use as defense—now, you will learn it for offense as well.”

You have always known that one of the Tamahashi Clan’s main roles in Soul Society is the overseeing of sekkiseki, including its production, machining, and usage in many of Seireitei’s constructions—such as the s eireiheki walls surrounding the court. By extension, many of their auxiliary functions are also operated and maintained by your family’s authority.

In your memory, Lord Saichirō had brought for your review numerous convicted case files of criminals locked away inside the Central Underground Prison for their various crimes, and many others of those awaiting punishment within the Senzaikyū. You were young and far from Kidō Corps Commander when these studies first began, and you consider yourself very fortunate to have such a patient and thoughtful mentor, though at the time it never occurred to you that it also proved the influence of the Tamahashi Clan, especially its relations to the Central 46.

This is why, unlike many other noble families that come and go, even without the Kidō Corps your clan can remain a Great Noble House.

The sekkiseki is a sacred gift to your clan from the gods, and it has penetrated the lives of all of the oni descent. You each wear a piece of jewelry made of sekkiseki—the chimihisui —that will follow you for the rest of your lives and drain part of the excess spiritual power that comes with your bloodline. So perhaps it should be of no surprise to you that this characteristic of it can also be used to neutralize and kill. 

Before you can begin to register what had just happened, her expression suddenly sours to look as if another century worth of her life had been sucked away. “But know this: you are to never use it with ill will, do you understand that? You must promise me this…” Her voice trails off into a quiet mumble, but her bony hands clutch at yours in a desperate attempt to grasp onto something. Something distant in those dull eyes.

You’re not quite sure you understand Elder Ranka’s spontaneous worry, and frankly her erratic shifts in behavior warrants at least a bit of concern for her mental well-being. Nonetheless, you agree to her demand and hold her hands tight to comfort her as you wonder if she fears you’ll do something awful with your newfound power. 

… I might not like him very much, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna murder Byakuya .

And even if you do, heavens forbid it shall be anything less than a gruesome, honorable duel to the death—not some underhanded trap!

Yet even so, as you emerge from the dark corridor with the small box of tools and find your betrothed in the garden outside, basking handsomely in the glow of the setting sun, you can’t help but practically stare him down with your nostrils as if to say, “Watch out, pretty boy—I have in my possession a weapon of mass destruction and I’m not afraid to use it on you!”

Byakuya, of course, just looks at you as if watching a monkey perform with a new toy in hand, to which he frowns slightly—in disgust, probably. “Let us go; we are late.”

You scoff. Jealousy, now that’s what’s really disgusting!

Chapter Text

- Caution -

Rukia finds herself in a predicament.

Only several days ago her older brother bestowed upon her his first gift since his family name. Now, the jade hairpin lies in her lap, stiff and icy like everything else she’s known of aristocracy. 

“ It is a token from Lady Tamahashi ,” he’d told her then. Funny, even his gift to her isn’t his own. But it is a symbol of acceptance and friendship nonetheless, and those are particularly rare, especially toward someone with Rukia’s history.

Yes, of course she is aware of the circumstances surrounding her own adoption. Even she had been terribly shocked at her resemblance to the woman in the photo on Byakuya’s home office desk. It is why she dreads meeting Lady Tamahashi, yet is so inevitably curious of her character.

She can’t imagine that a noblewoman would favor her after a shameful engagement like that. Resentment is more than warranted. Deserved.

But Lady Tamahashi did give a token.

With what intentions, Rukia is unsure. Afraid to question, even.

Surely, Byakuya would not be so cruel to allow something meant to publicly humiliate her, at least she hopes so.

Yet she is timid about wearing the trinket, as if it should never belong to someone like her. She could pretend all she wants in front of strangers in an attempt to mimic Byakuya’s distant authority, but within the enclosure of the Kuchiki Manor no one would be fooled. Besides, it would be making a very bold statement about Lady Tamahashi’s endorsement, and in the event that she might be of similar disposition as Lady Shion …

But Byakuya had insisted, “ Present yourself with it to Lady Tamahashi when she arrives .” Out of respect, surely, as Rukia doesn’t recall reading any emotion from her brother’s face as he spoke those words. Even this marriage brings him no joy—is there anything that will make him happy? Rukia is a little dejected at the thought.

So perhaps she should stop wasting time deciding whether to adorn the hairpin or not. To do so would be simply following her brother’s orders, and if it should upset the Lady… 

Rukia sighs. 

I suppose I could just live at the 13th Division barracks forever …

She spends a few more minutes adjusting her hair, but after finding no satisfactory style she gives up and heads for bed.

If Lady Tamahashi shall dislike me, she could find countless nits to pick anyway …

—

As promised, Byakuya has invited Lady Tamahashi to the Kuchiki Manor to explore her options pertaining to the assignment of her quarters. Well, that is what they’ve agreed upon, but they both know that it is actually to fulfill the bargain and introduce Rukia.

Truly, if word of the true intentions had escaped, there would be an uproar from the Tamahashi Clan.

That’s the true difficulty of merely trying to exist in a noble household—without concrete authority, even a truthful exchange of words is an unattainable luxury. Everyone has to hide and guess each other’s thoughts because anything less is a show of weakness.

He looks down at the framed photo of Hisana, tracing a thumb over her face. Things were easier then, even if for a brief moment. He could neglect inhibition and shower her with affection and gifts in what manners he’d considered most romantic, and she would accept them with joy and gratitude.

Gratitude…

His chest tightens. 

Even though he’d meant to give all of his love, her reception had always been thoughtful. Calculated. Careful. And he found it endearing and sweet that she was mindful of his position in the Kuchiki Clan…

Eventually, that seemed to be all that became of their marriage. Or perhaps it was all that it ever was, only veiled behind his bliss of finding a pure love.

“ What was on your mind…? ” He whispers under his breath.

Had he been wrong?

Is what he seeks simply impossible by nature?

But he was happy… right?

His intrusive thoughts are interrupted by approaching footsteps upon the corridor outside.

“Milord, Lady Tamahashi’s carriage has arrived.”

“Very well.” Byakuya sets down the photo frame and exits the room.

The soft tinkling of the chimes on your carriage are heard in the wind even before he reaches the front gates of the Kuchiki Manor, announcing your arrival unabashedly. At the open gates, his steps stall for the briefest of moments as a breeze brushes aside the characteristic silk drapes surrounding the red seating box, revealing only the corner of one of your sleeves. 

Bright and vibrant, like the soul that it embraces.

How you have grown to become that, he does not understand. Within the Kuchiki Manor, there seems to be only emptiness. It’s all that he’s known since the death of his parents.

A handmaiden by your vehicle holds the silk aside to allow sight of you, though subconsciously Byakuya averts his gaze—yet his feet betray him to step up next to the carriage. He notices the bandage around your hand, present ever since you’d emerged from the dark room at Tamahashi Ranka’s estate, and suddenly he’s caught between the difficult decision of extending a helping hand or not.

What is it that you want of him? It was you who’d demanded of him to show you public support, yet when he did before Tamahashi Hayato you appeared furious. Now, shall he display courtesy? Or will you think something difficult of him again?

Just as he begins lifting his finger, you’ve already stepped down the carriage with the help of your servant’s hand.

“So this is the Kuchiki Manor,” you say, examining the plain yet imposing front gates of the estate, so different from the colorful and lavish decor of your own home. A taste of a different art, but it is neither foreign nor unpleasant. You give Byakuya a teasing smile, “I can’t wait to see my garden!”

“I will not permit inhabitation of any dangerous creatures,” he replies plainly, looking away.

“You're scared of snakes?” You smirk, then wave your hand dismissively. “I’d never resort to a coward’s tactics. So, are you inviting me inside or what?”

Meanwhile, at a distance within the Kuchiki Manor from the gates, Rukia is completely frozen in place. 

As expected, her brother had not noticed her as he stepped outside to receive the carriage of Lady Tamahashi. It is the first time Rukia has witnessed Byakuya in such close proximity with a foreign woman, so much that it feels surreal. 

And it is her first time seeing someone exuding such confidence to speak to him with so much uninhibited expression. Among the soft, earthy colors in every corner of the estate, the radiant colors of the Lady’s robes strike Rukia’s eyes like blades, nearly blinding her, yet she can’t tear her gaze away. The words they exchange are inaudible, but instinctively Rukia knows that her brother has taken a liking to the Lady. It is not happiness that she sees on his face; rather, despite the stark contrast between the pair, the air surrounding them is strangely harmonious.

She has never seen Byakuya so relaxed except when alone. And even in those moments, when he would finally acknowledge her presence, his gaze would turn stern and calculating, so much that she would forget her words to explain why she would be observing him in the first place. It would be lying to say that she does not miss the old carefree days spent with Renji, but in a somewhat twisted way she could find relief in knowing that at least Byakuya shares the same loneliness as her.

But surely, the warmth that Lady Tamahashi radiates is not meant for her.

Now, Rukia is alone again.

But as the pair begins to approach the gates, she suddenly feels the urge to dig a hole and hide from sight as guilt washes over her for even allowing envy to sprout. Inadequate and out of place, the shock keeps her feet planted to the corridor floor beneath her feet. 

To you, the sight of the unfamiliar girl before you is equally awkward. This is the girl whose resemblance to Byakuya’s previous wife had gotten her adopted into this household—you’ve imagined countless possibilities of what type of character she might be: overconfident, devious, or even greedy. Certainly, you’ve projected the typical traits of nobles and those who’ve ascended to status spontaneously—characteristics of people in general, as you’ve assumed—yet looking at her now, every fiber of her being screams of mismatch to the serene and majestic aura associated with aristocracy bearing the Kuchiki name. Even the plum blossom-carved hairpin that you’ve sent her as a gift appears outlandish and dull in her hair. 

In the split second when your eyes meet, you read shame and uncertainty. Fear .

Not completely undeserved, at least it should be to the Tamahashi Clan and you, who are meant to resent her by extension. Perhaps at the time of her adoption this young girl was not aware of the full tale involved, but many things in life are unjust like that.

Not too long ago, you’d been the same. Ashamed of the troubles that your failed engagement had brought upon your name, anxious of the purpose that it had robbed from you, and questioning why becoming everything that your clan needed of you was still not enough for them. 

You’ve suffered plenty through finding those answers for yourself—maybe you can help this poor creature whose soul quivers at the mere sight of you. Well, that is what you have promised Byakuya you would do, anyway.

But that isn’t something to be cured within a day or two, and frankly you can’t be bothered with such a weakling at this time. With scrutinizing eyes you peer at the girl.

At least she seems to know her place so far.

“This is my sister, Rukia. Rukia, meet Lady Tamahashi,” Byakuya introduces without a trace of emotion in his voice.

She takes a deep bow. “It is my great pleasure to meet you.”

You nod. “Kuchiki Rukia, I’ve heard a good deal about you. You are a shinigami, yes?”

“Yes, I am serving in the 13th Division.”

“Ah, under Captain Ukitake? You must be quite skilled!”

Rukia’s eyes widen and she shakes her head, somehow appearing to shrink even more into her already exceedingly petite form. “No, you overpraise me.”

Humble. Good, good.

“We’ll see about that.” You raise a curious eyebrow. “Perhaps you would care to show me a few moves?” You glance at Byakuya, who, as you’ve guessed, throws you a disapproving look. “But another time, I suppose.”

Rukia’s head bows deeper. “I am at your request.”

And very obedient, so far . You eye Byakuya, but only for a second. A little too much .

“Rukia, Lady Tamahashi is the current Kidō Corps Commander and Grand Kidō Chief, you will do well to learn from her,” Byakuya comments.

The shock on Rukia’s face is evident, and after the ensuing silence passes you give her a teasing glare. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“I would not dare! M-my apologies!”

“That is enough,” Byakuya interrupts before you can possibly have a chance to embarrass his sister further. He glares at you as a warning, to which you turn away so as to not betray a roll of your eyes. “We have other matters to discuss, you may go,” he tells Rukia.

Her shoulders slump all-too-obviously, in a manner of relief or dejection—or both—you can’t tell. You pretend that you don’t notice the disappointment in Byakuya’s cold eyes, and take a guess that Rukia does too as she fails to even lift her gaze to meet his own. 

“Yes. Please excuse me.”

As Rukia begins shuffling away, you can’t help but shake your head. What a disaster of siblings—even if adopted! 

“Just a moment,” you call out, and immediately Rukia freezes in place. Byakuya glares down at you, as if demanding, ‘ What now? ’ But you ignore him and take a few steps to catch up to Rukia. Under that icy gaze of your betrothed you quickly pull out the jade hairpin from Rukia’s loose hair bun and use it to secure a new one without effort, what with her standing still like a toadstool and eyes as wide as walnuts.

You then gesture to your own handmaiden who has been accompanying you, and she presents an ornate lacquered box, opening it to reveal a set of identical jade hairpins, with the one missing atop Rukia’s head.

“Have your attendants learn some proper short hairstyles before the ceremony, won’t you?” You say to Rukia rather loudly as you take a step back and have your handmaiden give her the box. Rukia seems at a loss for words, but it isn’t her response that you’re looking for.

A moment later from behind you, Byakuya is once again heard, and it isn’t in your direction. “Make the arrangements for Lady Rukia. Shall this occur again, there will be punishments.”

A series of thumping sounds are heard behind you, and you turn to eye his kneeling attendants coldly. Their foreheads planted upon the floorboards are laughable—had they expected you to be so easy to disrespect? You have no care for how they treat Rukia in private, but you will not allow some scum to make a fool of you and tarnish the name to which you will marry!

Next to you, Rukia looks horrified, but visibly bites back whatever jitter of her features as you stare at her with the same examining look. 

“Apologies, milord!”

“You are all dismissed.” Byakuya orders icily, and with only a glance from him Rukia escapes the scene following a bow of her own. Even your own handmaiden has retreated a few dozen steps to avoid his collateral displeasure.

A long moment of silence later, you comment, “I didn’t think you would be so benevolent as a master.” 

Perhaps noticing the sarcasm in your voice, Byakuya narrows his eyes at you. “If you have something to say, say it.”

You shrug your shoulders and smile. “I’m just an observer, for now at least. But…” You are reminded of your mother’s brief yet concise lessons about managing the household. It’s certainly much easier said than done. “As things are now, there is a lot of work to be done.”

Byakuya is silent, and just when you think he would snap back with some remark about authority or his reputation , his expression relaxes. The shadow of a smirk tugs at his lips, though you read from his eyes that he is satisfied with the turn of events. “ You shall have a lot of work to do.”

Your look turns deadpan as you wait for him to say something. He doesn’t. “Isn’t your household your responsibility?” Though you won’t complain if he’ll let you take control… 

Byakuya raises an eyebrow. “Of course, and I shall supervise your progress. Did you think I would allow you to do whatever it is you please?” He takes the words right out of your mouth and crosses his arms. “Or you can withdraw now, and be left with nothing.”

“Is that a challenge?” You hiss.

“If you’re half as prodigious as you’re reputed to be, it should be of no difficulty to you.” The tiny, cruel smile of his materializes while you purse your lips in a mixture of disappointment and annoyance.

“Gee, thanks,” you grumble. You don’t know if you should be grateful for possessing such a skill or not.

Byakuya makes no further comment on the matter as he begins walking away and deeper into the manor. You take a look around at the empty space surrounding you and, recalling that the local attendants have all been dismissed, quickly step after him before you get lost with your handmaiden in tow a fair distance away.

Thankfully, his pace is without hurry, and while he makes no effort to introduce any of the gardens and rooms passing by, you take the liberty to survey the area in pleasant silence behind him. Through snaking corridors you are led to a grand open field that serves as the training grounds, with racks placed against the walls filled with weapons and armor, and a small resting area in the shade where other servants bow in greeting. Next is a terrace behind a gateway that marks entrance into the private quarters, distinguished by lush trees that prevent curious eyes from peeking inside. Beyond this point, you stop to wonder if it’s possible for a garden that suits your tastes to exist? There is nothing particular of note here, especially not when compared to the thick greenery and fresh waters that flow within every corner of your own home, but you soon realize that this is only an aesthetic choice of the Kuchiki for humility where foreign gaze may be warranted. 

Woven behind the terrace and its neighboring houses is a stone garden with a few decorative puddles, and adjacent to it appears to be Byakuya’s office where you catch a glimpse of open scrolls and a whiff of expensive ink as you approach.

Before the open doorway of the office, you pause and peer inside curiously. The wide room is quiet and neat, decorated with handsome calligraphy procured and practiced through the ages of the Kuching Clan. The few trinkets here and there on the shelves are expensive and intricate, but speak of status rather than taste. There is a lack of life here, just like everywhere else that you have yet seen of the manor.

But there, just on the corner of the desk in the center of the office, is a small wooden frame. Encased inside is the image of a young woman, photographed with technology that was imported from the Human World nearly a century ago. An image nearly identical to the girl you’d only met earlier today. Her smile is like a breeze, soft and kind-natured, but lifeless nonetheless.

Is this what you have been defeated by? You nearly scoff at the thought.

Next to you, Byakuya is still and silent. 

“They are quite alike, aren’t they?” You practically sneer and walk past the office. You feel his gaze on your back but don’t hear his footsteps. They don’t arrive until moments after, when you’ve neared another doorway deep within the manor and looked inside, your own feet disobeying you and stepping in with a will of their own.

Revealed to you is an open area filled with freshly-trimmed lawn and littered rocks. Near the center, some distance away is a wide structure built upon a base of cleanly-swept stone, yet the windows and roof tiles are discolored from dust and wear. From the unruly sight of things, this place must have been abandoned until recently, an idea further reinforced by a large, rusted lock on the front doors. But what you’ve set your eyes on is a cluster of withering pine trees in the corner of the garden, and slowly a distant memory unfurls.

“ I’ve saved something for you here. ”

“Can’t I have it now?”

A chuckle.

“There’s no rush; the gift is yours to keep forever. It won’t be long before you come back, anyhow.”

But that turned out to be untrue. It’s been nearly two hundred years now, and even the face on the other side of the memory seems to have faded. All that’s really stuck with you are the decayed, hollow trees still standing tall, forming stark black silhouettes against the bright sky.

Is that the reason you’ve come? To chase a fragment of the past?

And what’s here is… 

You take another step inside the garden and towards the trees, but stop when you feel Byakuya’s gaze on your back again. As you turn to look at him, the shrouded face in your memory merges with his.

His gaze is inquisitive—concerned, even, and you are suddenly very lost. A vision comes to you in a blur, disappearing before you can grasp even its outline. The past and present blend together as one.

Yet in the end, they are not the same.

“I want this courtyard,” you finally tell him firmly.

Byakuya’s gaze turns suspicious for only a moment, but he nods nonetheless. “Then it is settled.” He then looks past you and at the locked doors of the forsaken building. “I do not have the key to that building nor know what is inside, but I would appreciate it if you do not tear it down by force.”

“I won’t,” you agree immediately, turning to the building with anticipation bubbling in your stomach. I know where the key is , you want to say but bite your tongue. 

It’s a secret. You smile.

At least for now.

Chapter Text

- Enchantment -

Although Seireitei bustles with energy during the daytime, once night descends all seems to fall still. It is long past the hour of curfew, and the only sounds that accompany your ears are the remaining droplets of the rain that had just stopped and lonely hoots of owls in the indistinguishable distance. Under the foliage of the forest and the veil of the night, your disguise is impeccable.

Approaching the tall walls before you and once more ensuring your spiritual pressure is held in, you place a hand on the damp wall and close your eyes. You listen for sounds on the wind, feel for vibrations in the earth, and sense the rhythmic breath of the world around you. Tiny ripples of energy dance against your nerves, and soon an image is painted in your mind.

Four… five guards to the west, and four to the east. There must be more, but they are further north and not an immediate concern to you. With a quiet exhale you leap onto the external side of roof tiles on the wall, the sound of your landing further dampened by the thin layer of water between the ceramic. You slowly peek over the beam and to whatever is on the other side.

Most of the Kuchiki Manor is silent and dark, as far as you can tell from where you hide. A few dim candles in stone lamps guide the way through wet garden paths, though at this time you don’t see nor hear anybody walking around. No guards in sight, so what you’d sensed must be ninja on watch duty, but now that you know their locations they won’t have a chance to detect you. There’s no such thing as being too careful, though. You look up and wait patiently for the moon to hide behind the clouds that gather once more, giving you an opportunity to hop quietly onto the roof of the nearest building.

You are presently on the south side of the manor, which you recall is the direction of the private quarters. The quarters below are not the one you are looking for, however, so in the dark you make quick and quiet travel toward the next building roof from which to survey the scape below, all the while making sure to avoid any sources of light and lurking ninja.

It’s not long before you arrive at your destination, with the desolate building so obvious in the center of the courtyard that you’d visited just days before. You dare not tread on its old roof tiles, instead swooping down from a neighboring structure and slinking up to the doors like a snake of the shadows, certain that no attendant would come here at this hour. 

The ancient pavilion glistens like treasure.

Under the dim light of the moon that is slowly beginning to peek out from behind the dark clouds, you examine the rusty lock on the front doors. Despite the wear on the brass, it is holding up rather well, and a gentle tug at it suggests no sign of breaking anytime soon. You reach under the folds of your sash and pull out a large key, but hesitate.

Why are you here, sneaking into the Kuchiki Manor in the middle of the night, merely weeks before your wedding ceremony? Why are you in such a hurry to enter this building that will be yours anyway?

And that memory…

It won’t be long…

You recall the effort it took you to find this key, digging for the past couple of days under piles and piles of your belongings that were stashed away in the Tamahashi Manor, forgotten for a hundred years and more. When you’d first left home in hopes of abandoning your roots, you’d also left behind other things that were precious to you. 

One can never truly escape from their past.

It’s been too long already.

What’s been waiting for you here is meant for a perfect Kuchiki wife―a future destined for a past you.

But you’re not the same you anymore. The hopes and dreams of that girl―meant for that girl―have long since disappeared along with her and those who bore them for her.

Whatever it is that is here, you need it now . At least then it can still serve some purpose to you.

With a newfound determination, you insert the key and with a satisfying twist and click the lock comes undone. The doors slide open with a soft exhale of the breeze and dust, and in the pouring moonlight you take in the scene with bated breath.

Except for the landing upon which you arrive, a single room fills the entire building. The tattered drapes and banners along the worn-down wall panels are further evidence of the lack of maintenance throughout the years, as is the lack of footprints on the thick layer of dust over the floorboards. A strange emotion washes over you, as if somehow the solitude that this building has endured all these years has suddenly personified, suffocating you with its embrace.

It’s truly been too long…

In the center of the room is a short desk. What appears like a box rests upon it, shrouded in the darkness. You swallow and step up to it, brushing away the dust to feel intricate carvings on lacquer, and inside the box is a small, rippled flat item, icy to the touch. 

It’s as you thought.

Your breath hitches in your throat in both anticipation and relief before it escapes in a quiet sigh, and you quickly shuffle the item into your sleeve for safekeeping. Though small and insignificant, its weight forces you in place for a moment to take it in.

It is then that you feel the atmosphere change. A heavy presence behind you. 

A strike!

You immediately swivel to the other side to evade, and instinctively strike your palm out in the dark to retaliate. A silent cut in the wind. Your opponent blocks it by arm, and attacks with another strike with the other hand, aiming straight for your face that you discern by the air movements and the distinct bite of killing intent. Your gaze sharpens.

They’re good!

You lift your hand to block, but as it makes contact you hiss as pain jolts up your arm, having forgotten about your wound that has just barely healed. You quickly withdraw your injured hand behind you to safety, and just in time to block another attack. You bite back the urge to grin, both entertained and thoroughly annoyed.

But not good enough!

Just as the strike is fended off, instead of pulling back you slide your good hand forward and wrap your sleeve around the offending arm. Following the momentum you yank your sleeve back, step forward and ram your other shoulder into your attacker, only to be blocked again and pushed off by their hand along with a soft, audible gasp. You both end up sliding back several paces from each other, and as you tense your good hand into a claw to retaliate against another attack from the darkness it suddenly stops inches before you.

“It’s you!” Byakuya’s voice exclaims in a mixture of surprise and frustration as he steps out of the shadows and into the moonlight where you stand.

“Who else could it be?!” You can’t help but snap back as the tension in the atmosphere dissipates instantly, and you’re at least somewhat glad that you won’t need to knock anybody out tonight to hide your tracks, now that you’ve been―unfortunately―found out by the estate owner. Dressed in only loose white nightwear and a dark overcoat he would have been a sight to see, but you are in no mood to admire.

“What are you doing here at this hour? And how did you even get in?” He demands sharply, to which you practically deflate and purse your lips in protest.

“I-I’m just taking a look around! Is there a problem?” You attempt to bluff, but he frowns even deeper. “Besides, I have a key! See―right there, on the door―are you blind?”

“ That’s your excuse? You couldn’t have come by during the day to visit formally?” Maybe it’s because of the late hour clouding his judgement, or some shock factor of your sudden appearance in his backyard, but Byakuya seems much more talkative and irritable than you’ve previously become accustomed to. He’s practically fuming! “No matter, just leave and don’t come by again sneaking around like a thief.”

“Right on, captain! If you’ll excuse me…” While he pinches the bridge of his nose, you tiptoe towards the open doorway to escape this awkward predicament.

“Stop right there,” he suddenly says and glares at you coldly, and somehow it compels you to freeze in place. Well, not that you can outrun him anyway, you reckon. “You were thieving around, weren’t you?”

“What―no! How can you say that?” Damn it, did he catch on already?!

He takes a step closer, eyes narrowed on you like a hawk. “What is in your hand?”

You press your hands further behind yourself and shuffle another step towards the doors. “Nothing!”

Not buying your lie for a second, Byakuya reaches out and grabs your sleeve with such conviction that you might as well have face-planted into him, but as he suddenly stalls from reprimanding you you look up at him cautiously. Those steel eyes, just moments ago filled with the impatience of a fish out of water, now look down at you with… guilt?

You follow his gaze, and find yourself staring at your hand with the open wound and a thin trail of blood trickling down your arm.

The sharp pain suddenly registers and you cry, “I’m bleeding! Why’d you hit me so hard!”

“I did not! I mean, well…” He quickly lets go of your sleeved arm and begins mumbling words somewhat incoherently before finally apologizing. It’s rather cute, but you don’t intend on letting him off the hook so soon―what if he remembers to search you for stolen goods again?

“You didn’t even hold back! This is abuse!” You wail dramatically, even going as far as to squeeze out a single half of a teardrop at the corner of your eye.

“I thought you were a thief…”

“I’m gonna tell my brother!” 

“That you were sneaking in my home in the middle of the night?”

You pause and give him an open-jawed look before resuming the crying, “And now you’re threatening me!”

“... Anyway, stop crying and come with me,” Byakuya sighs deeply with exasperation dusting his words, and quickly steps out of the room without another glance at you, probably to escape your haunting tantrum. As he does, you put an end to your awful acting and stick your tongue out at him from behind.

Stupid!

But you follow after him nonetheless, though are somewhat surprised―and disappointed―that he doesn’t simply send you home. Certainly, you could have just ran off, but then you’d be forever remembered as a thief for real. 

Fine, you’ll entertain him a little longer, now that you’ve claimed what you came here for.

The path that he leads you on is not one that you recall from your previous visit, as it winds further into the private quarters than you were last shown. Just as you begin to worry if he might be taking you to some dungeon where he’d hide your dead body, he enters a room and lights a candle, revealing a much cosier study than the one you’d seen earlier. There just seems to be more… stuff. While Byakuya searches the shelves in half-darkness you stretch your neck in an attempt to discern the contents of the room―in both curiosity and caution―but before you can take a better look he has found what he seeks and shoos you outside onto the hallway. 

“Sit,” he instructs before you try to make another ruckus. As you both sit on the dry floor, sheltered from the previous rain and then wiped clean by the servants, you see that he lays out a few materials: some fabric and cotton, a pair of scissors, and several ceramic jars. He extends a hand to you, and you can’t help but be suspicious of his act of kindness. Sure, he did cause your wound to reopen, but if you weren’t sneaking into here in the first place… “Do you want to be treated or not?” He asks with a hint of annoyance in his tone, and you realize you must have been hesitating for a while now.

“You don’t have to, I can fix it myself…” You trail off, looking away and into the garden illuminated under the moon. And yet you present your hand to him anyway, as if a spell had been cast upon you, hissing and twitching as a disinfecting spirit is poured over the wound. 

“Hold still,” he commands. You roll your eyes, attempting to conceal that your mind goes blank as you try not to think about the temperature of his hand on yours, the smooth texture of his skin, the gentleness of his touch…

“Why do you have the key to that room?” Byakuya suddenly questions, bringing your attention back to him. You wait for him to say something in addition, but he seems to be patiently waiting for your response now as he applies an ointment with a small, golden spoon. The coolness of the medicine only makes you raise your guard as you disguise a gathering frown with a pout, having hoped that he would forget the topic altogether.

“Well, I’m your fiancée―isn’t it normal that I would have one?” Having contemplated your answer, you end up saying. It’s not completely untrue, yet speaking it out loud still makes you rather uncomfortable. 

You don’t want to tell him the truth. 

Somehow, it feels too cruel, even to him.

“... I see.”

You strain your neck forward and give him a suspicious look with narrowed eyes. “Aren’t you going to ask who gave it to me?”

He raises an eyebrow as he peers at you with a bored expression. “Would you tell me if I ask?”

Perhaps he knows already, or is otherwise unbothered. The prospect relieves you as you shrug your shoulders, smirking playfully. “Probably! You never know until you try―ouch!” A yelp escapes you as he pulls the bandage a tad too tightly around your hand.

“Try not to make it so obvious the next time you lie,” Byakuya says plainly as he finishes his task, though a shadow of a smile plays at the corners of his lips. You’re pretty sure that’s just the moon though, doing its dirty magic and making him look like an absolute magnum opus of porcelain and silk under its light. A curse to you, certainly!

“I knew you were up to no good, trying to tear my hand off or what…?” You grumble, grimacing at him and baring your teeth in un-ladylike fashion as you stand up and defend your hand from any more damage. Surprisingly, it’s reasonably well-treated, even by your standards. “How did you find me anyway? My sneaking was perfect!”

Byakuya’s disinterested expression is maintained as he looks at you as if at an idiot. “I could hear you from a mile away,” he answers, to which you scoff in disbelief. 

“Lies!” He must have only gotten lucky. 

He collects his belongings quietly, ignoring your inaudible ramblings with a newfound calmness and returns his items to their respective positions on the shelves of his study. As he reemerges, he looks at you expressionlessly, but you read him as if asking, ‘Why are you still in my home?’

“You may leave now. I will not press any charges,” he says, his tone bordering on smug to your ears.

You little…! You bite back any remark that might make you look more foolish than you already do―somehow this man is more difficult to deal with when he is talkative than when he is not―and instead give him the most aggressive glare that you can muster.

Must not resort to violence, must not resort to violence, must not resort to violence… 

And then, that strange feeling strikes you again. A breeze of melancholy for reminiscence of something that you cannot grasp. A brief flash of familiarity that you’re certain is only an illusion by the moon that makes him so enticing. A charm that urges you to give in to his bidding.

It is oh-so difficult to fight. You curse yourself mentally for falling victim to the short-lived intimacy of your interaction. And his divine looks. And his―

Good thing that you’ve still got a bit of the rebel in your spirit and the mental fortitude to shake your mind clear, or however clear it’s going to get. 

“Just so you know, I’m not a thief!” As you prepare to depart, you feel once again that you need to have the final say, though keep your tone low to preserve what little dignity you have left. “I’m just really talented at moving quietly!” No, that’s not quite convincing either… “And you should really tighten your security…!” Your voice trails off as you finally leave the estate by the roofs and sky, just the same way as you came.

To himself, Byakuya shakes his head gently. What a child . 

Yet he can’t help but smile a little. With you in contrast, the bigger fool is obvious. Perhaps only then can he afford to be a bit more relaxed. To act a bit more like himself.

That foolish boy has been gently awakened as he was tonight, even if just slightly. Was it a premonition, a disturbance, or even by pure coincidence that he should be roused from slumber as you’ve snuck in? Somehow, it is… not so unwelcome.

But you are now gone once again. Like a shooting star at midnight.

A face flashes across his mind. Hisana, and her smile, so weak and beautiful. A tiny, flickering light in his realm of shadows, forever dancing out of reach.

You are nothing alike.

And yet…

His chest tears, something wanting to break out in searching―yearning.

As the wind on your tail dies down and all falls silent once more, Byakuya looks up at the moon once again slowly obscured by the gathering clouds. The cold, soundless dark of the Kuchiki Manor envelops him, and he feels the last tendrils of your warmth fading from his fingertips. 

You had come with intentions to take something from him. That, you achieved.

Sleep, he fears, thus mindlessly he grasps, reaching for anything to curb the looming emptiness. Anything real and substantial.

An angry, silent void chews at him like a beast never satiated.

In his hand he finds a blade, and unsheathes it to reveal the bitter shine of the moon at its edge, taunting him with its fickle cruelty. The next moment he is in the garden ahead, silhouette dancing with the shadows that he desperately tries to cut down, yet they split and reemerge twice as numerous, twice as dark.

Does he struggle to purge the encroaching night, or to chase off the humiliating lune?

His movements start out as haphazard swings, splitting the darkness in a flurry of silver in hopes of warming the blood in his veins. As his breath and blade fall into a calm, rhythmic pace so does his mind, just in time for the biting rain to return. To remind him that he is still alive.

The blade is left forgotten, staked in the wet soil beneath his feet as Byakuya slips away, traversing roofed corridors and gardens with the soothing rain accompanying him. At the steps leading to the entrance of the abandoned pavilion, he notices once again a fragment of your belonging.

The suspicious key, still and silent within the rusted lock hanging on the open door.

He did not need to ask who had given it to you.

This place was built by his father, Kuchiki Sōjun .

For you to have access, regardless of the means, is enough indication of his father’s endorsement. With a somewhat somber yet relieved sigh, Byakuya steps up to the table in the middle of the room, barely visible even as his eyes grow accustomed to the lack of light. He stares, unmoving. The box stares back.

The prize that the two of you had fought over, even if just briefly. Now, your blood is on his hands.

Just another debt of his to add to the ever-growing list.

Why do the strings of fate keep tying him to you? Or is it the opposite?

At least he can find comfort in telling himself that it was perhaps decided a long time ago, when your engagement was first announced, even if Byakuya himself has no memory of that time. Even the recollection of his mother and father is a blur in the past. 

And perhaps his life will be easier if he simply accepts it. Now, he has no reason not to.

You had not come with intentions to steal from him, for one cannot steal what they already possess. Shutting his eyes, he smiles wryly.

In the end, he has come full circle to the beginning.

His struggles have no meaning. Hisana has no meaning. The years dreaming of agency in his own life have no meaning.

But now, at least he can finally be at peace with his destiny.