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1.
The first in quite a series of unfortunate events was the brute himself. When Kenpachi broke down the door to the Sixth Squad and demanded an audience, Byakuya nearly started a civil war. How could someone with his rank still be so uncivilized as to actually rip their front gate off its hinges?! Byakuya swore to make the Eleventh cover the costs of the repairs.
The door was the least of his concerns once he listened to what the brute had to say.
It was a proposal.
Of the most obscene kind.
What prompted such a forward action was still a mystery, but Byakuya handled it with as much poise and dignity as he could manage. Which is to say he immediately threatened to report his unprompted harassment to the Head Captain and stormed off in a tizzy.
His heart pounded in his chest despite his usual stony expression.
How brazen.
His nerves stayed rattled for the rest of the day. He attempted to suppress the sour mood that had ascended on him so as not to let his frustrations out on his truly innocent lieutenant, but today was certainly not his day so maintaining his composure felt like a herculean task.
Oh Renji.
He did nothing to deserve the anger directed his way, and yet his way it was indeed directed.
Renji barely batted an eye when Byakuya barked orders at him. He performed his assigned tasks with the speed and excellence that Byakuya had come to expect from him and even made the time to prepare and pour tea for him.
As Byakuya stared at the steaming cup of green tea in front of him, he felt all anger dissipate; a sense of shame filled its place. He truly did not deserve such a loyal lieutenant.
“Renji.”
He turned his head sharply at the use of his given name. “Yes, taicho?”
“Thank you.”
Renji’s eyes widened and his cheeks reddened. “Oh, uh, no problem. I can tell you’ve been having a bad day and I know tea helps you feel better.”
Byakuya’s stomach dropped and his chest filled with cold air. “I apologize for lashing out the way I did. It was unbecoming and should not have been directed toward you.”
“Aw, it’s alright, taicho,” Renji said while grinning and scratching the back of his head. “When I heard about what happened to the gate this morning, I braced for impact.”
It was Byakuya’s turn to redden. “Does everyone know about the exchange I had with that brute?”
“Heh,” Renji chuckled nervously. “Just about.”
“I suppose it can’t be helped,” Byakuya sighed in dismay. “He is nothing if not grandiose.”
2.
As if Kenpachi hadn’t been bad enough, another unexpected visitor awaited Byakuya that afternoon. He and Renji were on their way back from running drills when a blur of purple and orange darted past them into their office.
Renji stiffened at the reiatsu which was all the confirmation Byakuya needed to grit his teeth. What did that demon cat bitch want with him?
“Taicho,” Renji started cautiously. “Do you want me to wait out here?”
“Of course not. Anything she has to say to me can be said in front of you as well.” He also wasn’t sure he had the strength to suffer through another dramatic ordeal without the grounding presence of Renji.
When they entered the office, Yoruichi was sitting on Byakuya’s desk, swinging her legs.
“Bya-bo! You’ve gotten slow!”
Byakuya scowled and straightened his spine. “Remove yourself from my desk or I will be forced to do so myself.”
“Now, now. Is that any way to speak to a lady?” she teased. “Abarai-kun, mind waiting outside while I speak with your taicho for a bit?”
“He will do no such thing,” Byakuya interjected, glancing back at his lieutenant who had his arms crossed and feet planted.
“Very well!” she sang before procuring a folded piece of parchment and dangling it in front of him. “I never knew such a little Bya-kun could have such big feelings. They trained you well ‘cause I never would’ve noticed.”
Byakuya’s eyes flew open once he snatched it and saw what it was. “Where did you get this?”
“You sent it to me.”
“Bullshit,” Byakuya hissed. “This was kept in my private files in my home.”
“Are you accusing me of breaking in?” Yoruichi asked with a teasing glint in her eye.
“It wouldn't be your first time,” he said. “Regardless, this is an old letter with an outdated confession. I would encourage you to disregard.”
Yoruichi chuckled before flash-stepping toward the door. “Oh, Bya-kun. I’m not stupid enough to believe you still feel that way towards me, considering…” Her eyes lingered on Renji for a second too long for Byakuya’s comfort. “I just wanted to tease you. Stay sharp!”
And with that she was gone.
Byakuya’s heart raced at her final implication. Was he really that obvious? He swallowed heavily and turned to regard his lieutenant. Thankfully, Renji seemed none the wiser, looking down at his feet with a vacant expression.
“I find myself in your debt yet again, Renji.”
The redhead looked up with raised brows. “Nah, no way. I didn’t do anything. I can look into who mailed that letter though, if you would like?”
“That won’t be necessary,” he replied.
“All things considered, I can hold down the fort for the rest of the shift if you’d like to go home, taicho.”
Warmth spread across Byakuya’s back as Renji hesitantly rested his hand there. He let the feeling consume him for a moment before responding.
“Yes, I think you may be right.” He turned to hold Renji’s gaze. “Thank you.”
3.
Much to his dismay, there was a letter awaiting Byakuya upon his arrival at the estate. Emerald green wax sealed the parchment, and pressed into it was the trademark whirlpool of the Shiba clan. Judging by how the rest of the day had gone, he could only imagine what was written. Electing to deal with it once he had a full stomach and a clear head, the letter was stuffed into the folds of his kimono and shoved to the back of his mind.
He immediately communicated with his staff that he would take his supper alone in his quarters and that he was not to be disturbed for the rest of the evening. Once they scurried away to do his bidding, Byakuya let his posture slip as he made his way to his closet.
Brightly colored brocade silks surrounded him, begging him to allow them to wrap around his frame and shelter him from the late autumn air, but he didn’t want them. Instead, he reached deep into the racks to retrieve his favorite kimono. Deep crimson silken thread painted a story across the stretch of black silk at his back.
The edges of the sleeves were fraying a bit after decades of continuous wear, but there wasn’t another kimono that offered the same kind of security and warmth.
From the time he was a small child, Byakuya’s father, Sōjun, insisted on bringing him to all of the festival celebrations. He believed it was important for his child to have an appreciation for the traditions of their culture. Some of Byakuya’s fondest memories of his father were from the numerous festivals they attended together before his untimely death.
Byakuya’s favorite was always the festival only three days before his birthday every year: Nue-harai Matsuri. Every year, his father would hoist him up on his shoulders so he could watch the people doing the nue-odori, and they would sneak into the estate kitchens late at night to make mochi to scatter to ward off the infamous nue.
After his father passed, Byakuya commissioned a seamstress to create a one-of-a-kind kimono honoring those special memories. Since its creation, the kimono served as a safe space and a protective covering from all of life’s hardships.
These days it still served the same purpose, but the significance changed.
The nue overtaking the samurai on the back of the kimono no longer represented the illness to which his father succumbed. No, instead the nue was overtaking the perilous pride of the samurai, preventing the noble soldier from dooming himself to a premature death.
Instead of fearing the yokai, Byakuya now found himself resting safely between the nue’s paws.
Perhaps it was wrong to place such significance upon a man who was unknowing, but Byakuya dared not breathe word of his deeply rooted feelings for his terrifying lieutenant. While Byakuya had no doubt that Renji would handle anything thrown his way with the same practiced patience as usual, he didn’t want to coerce the man into tolerating something as heavy as the weight of his emotions out of sheer loyalty.
The door to his private quarters slid open as one of the members of his staff, Suzumi, brought him his supper. After setting it on the desk in the corner, the man hurried back out into the hall, sliding the door shut and leaving Byakuya alone once more.
He made quick work of the meal, not because he was particularly hungry, but he knew he would be repulsed once it was no longer fresh and warm. It was difficult to turn down mackerel and pickled plums anyway.
After he’d eaten his fill, he opened the top drawer of his desk and, to his horror, discovered the hidden compartment contained within open and startlingly empty.
His skin blanched, his heart dropped, and he thought for a moment he might lose the meal he’d just ingested.
They were gone.
Every. Single. Letter.
Gone.
Oh, this was bad. This was very bad.
He rushed over to where he’d stowed the letter from the Shiba clan and tore into it.
My brother’s been dead for a long ass time, you weirdo.
~KS
In this moment, Byakuya wouldn’t have considered it dramatic in the slightest to throw himself off the tallest building he could find.
There had been six letters in that compartment. Now there were zero.
In a way, it was relieving because he was now no longer suffering a string of very oddly coinciding misfortunes. No. Now he knew that someone had set him up for failure.
But who would profit from destroying his reputation like this? Who would’ve even dared to look inside his desk for a secret compartment?
He’d need to increase his hypervigilance if he was ever to catch the one responsible. There was no point in attempting to intercept the letters before they arrived at their intended locations. He had no way of knowing when the letters were sent, so his attempts would be futile. No. His energy would be much better spent attempting to track down the culprit whilst doing his best to avoid the recipients.
4.
Much to his dismay, Byakuya had barely thought the thought when the shoji screen to his room started to slide open. He snapped his head up to see Renji, still in his uniform, stepping in. His blood ran cold.
He’d been so caught up in the idea of catching the sender that he’d forgotten one of the six letters was written to his very own lieutenant, Abarai Renji. The contents of that letter had been composed far more recently than the others.
Writing had always been his preferred form of processing the feelings he wasn’t allowed to feel. Byakuya considered the depth of his feelings his greatest flaw, because when something was to be felt, he felt it damn hard. Over the course of his life, he’d channeled these unspoken feelings into love letters addressed to the people who captured his heart. Most of the letters were confessions of puppy love, adolescent affection that was unbecoming of one who was to inherit an entire noble clan.
He never intended for them to ever be sent. It was simply a means to clear his mind and heart. It oftentimes worked, the crushes fading away in the weeks following.
The feelings for Renji regrettably resisted banishment. Upon completion of the letter, Byakuya found himself filled with a surge of warmth. Seeing him now standing so casually in his quarters fanned the flame and sent blood rushing to his face.
“Renji,” he said evenly, swallowing down the swirling of his stomach.
“Hey,” he responded gently. “Suzumi said you’d probably be alright with me coming back here.”
Byakuya didn’t reply. He wasn’t even sure how to respond because he wasn’t even sure if Renji had received the letter yet. But why else would he be there at this hour?
“I, uh, just finished up everything with the squad and wanted to make sure you were alright,” Renji continued, scratching the back of his head. “You seemed pretty rattled earlier.”
Byakuya nodded and let his posture soften. “Someone found the secret compartment in my desk and sent six letters that I had no intention of ever sending.”
Renji’s brows raised. “Well, shit. Do you know who did it? And why did you even bother writing letters you weren’t gonna send?”
Byakuya sighed and wiped a hand down his face. “It helps clear the thoughts out of my head. They were intended for my eyes only.”
It would seem Renji had not received the letter. Yet. Byakuya knew it was foolish to wish it would remain that way.
“I, for one, am more than willing to help hunt down the bastard that did this,” Renji said. “It’s a gross invasion of privacy, and just gross period, to go through someone’s desk and read their private letters.”
Byakuya couldn’t help but agree with his assessment. “Would you care for a cup of tea?”
“Uh, sure!” Renji replied with the sheepish laugh Byakuya had grown quite fond of. “As long as you don’t mind me staying.”
“Renji, we are far beyond the point of extending frivolous courtesies to one another. I would not offer you anything I do not wish to offer.” He stepped over to the door and sent for two settings of tea.
“I know I’m pretty biased,” Renji started, “but I think that’s the best kimono I’ve ever seen you wear.”
Byakuya froze before responding, his reply turning circles in his mind. “I commissioned it when my father died. We frequently attended the nue-banishing festival together when I was a child, so it seemed appropriate.”
Renji hummed. When Byakuya finally found the courage to turn and face him, he found Renji’s eyes regarding him with an overwhelming amount of fondness, something he’d never noticed in the past. He swallowed dryly, gesturing for Renji to follow him deeper into his quarters, past the room where he slept, and onto his private engawa.
It was cool outside, but that’s what blankets were for, no? He lowered himself to the floor, resting his back against the siding of the house before pulling a thick woolen blanket over his lap. Renji followed his lead and sat beside him; close enough that his intoxicating scent and contagious warmth could be felt, but only slightly.
“You’ve mentioned in the past that you run warm, but if you do decide you would like a blanket, you are welcome to help yourself.”
Color dusted across Renji’s cheeks as he bowed his head slightly. “Thank you, taicho.”
“Titles are unnecessary here, Renji. The work day is over.”
Perhaps he was being too forward in asking Renji to stay for tea and requesting that he refer to him by his given name, but Byakuya struggled regularly not to follow the whims of his heart. That was something he’d always assumed would work itself out as he aged, but alas, it had not. He was still as spitefully free-spirited as ever.
Once the tea arrived, they sat together in silence, admiring the rusting leaves in the garden swaying in the autumnal wind. Gurgling came infrequently from the pond as the koi breached the surface, most likely to catch a bug but perhaps they too wanted to admire the harvest moon.
What a peaceful end to such a tumultuous day.
—
Renji’s feet had gone numb ages ago.
It wasn’t from the cold though.
He wasn’t sure when, but at some point, Byakuya had fallen asleep. He didn’t notice until he felt the weight of his head against his shoulder. After several minutes with no movement, Renji shifted himself and eased Byakuya down to use his legs as a pillow. Byakuya hardly stirred.
Renji gazed down at the man in his lap. His hair fanned out around his head in glossy waves, free from the constraints of the kenseikan. Done up in his regalia, Byakuya was like a force of nature; steadfast, tenacious, and wise beyond his years. It filled Renji with immense pride to serve such a man.
But seeing him like this?
Renji gazed down at the beautiful captain, his beautiful captain, sleeping peacefully in his lap. He lifted his hand, fingers trembling, and brushed a strand of hair away from his face.
He wasn’t sure how long he should let his captain stay resting like this and the longer he slept, the more concerned he grew. What would his reaction be if he awoke to find himself laying on Renji? He wasn’t so foolish as to pretend there wasn’t a closeness between them that hadn’t been there before the war against Aizen, but that didn’t mean there was any amount of affection.
Byakuya moved, startling Renji into stillness, fingers still buried in his hair. He rolled himself over, shrugging his blanket further up his shoulder until it pooled under his chin. He curled in on himself and subsequently buried his face in Renji’s stomach. Renji let his arm drape over Byakuya’s shoulder, cradling his head and holding him close.
His heart ached. It was cruel of the gods to bless him with such an intimate moment with the man he loved and yet doom him to walk away as the only one with a memory of it.
—
Awareness descended on Byakuya as a frigid breeze rippled through his blankets and kimono. Had he forgotten to slide his screen shut last night before bed? It wasn’t like him to be so forgetful, and yet… When did he even go to sleep?
His eyes fluttered open to see the shoji screen slightly ajar. Rolling to lay flat on his back, Byakuya thought back on the night before.
He had no memory of bidding Renji farewell and retiring to his futon. No, the only possible explanation was that Renji carried him to his bed after he’d fallen asleep on the engawa. His heart started to race at just the thought of Renji caring for him so. His heart dared to dream that perhaps his lieutenant could eventually find feelings for him.
Life had a funny way of redirecting Byakuya’s dreams, however.
A knock on his door rang through the room, marking the beginning of another day of hell. It was Suzumi, there to inform Byakuya that he’d received a letter that bounced back from Muken prison, of all places.
Byakuya wanted to bury himself alive.
It could not be said that his letter to Aizen Sosuke aged well. Thank god the man was unable to receive it. How embarrassing an ordeal that would be.
5.
“You must know, Kuchiki-kun, that I am unbelievably flattered by your words.”
Byakuya hid his shame within his glass, taking a large sip of tea as Ukitake-taicho spoke.
“Of course, as I’m sure you’re aware, my heart is quite taken by another. I just don’t want you to think I’m turning your offer down with any enmity at all!” the man explained in his warm tone. “I do think the world of you and your sister.”
“Respectfully, Ukitake-taicho, that letter should never have left my possession and it was penned many years ago.”
Ukitake chuckled gently. “Do you have any leads on this mysterious sender?”
“I do not. Whomever it was cannot have had decent intentions, that is for certain,” Byakuya said bitterly.
“Who all had access to where they were kept?”
Byakuya looked to the side thoughtfully. “My staff, of course, but I have no reason to suspect them. Besides them, only Rukia would be able to enter my quarters unquestioned, and she would never betray my confidence in such a way.”
“And you’re certain no one broke in?” Juushiro asked.
“I have some of the best security in the Seireitei. Why would anyone risk breaking in for the sole purpose of mailing my private letters?”
“Sounds like someone needs the loving embrace of my favorite girl, sake,” came Kyoraku-taicho’s smooth tenor.
He stepped into the room and collapsed to sit beside Juushiro, setting an open bottle and three glasses on the low table between them. Juushiro turned to greet him; he touched his face and pressed a kiss to his lips.
“I can’t let your vie for my Juu go entirely unchallenged, Kuchiki-kun,” Kyoraku smirked. “After all, I won’t be able to compete with such young and handsome men for much longer.”
“I do apologize,” Juushiro said moments later. “I hope our behavior does not offend you, dear boy.”
Byakuya exhaled slowly, the burning of his face certainly visible. “Once again, Ukitake-taicho, the feelings expressed in that letter were penned by someone I am no longer.”
“You were quite well spoken for such a young age, Byakuya-kun! I hope you don’t mind my keeping the letter in my personal records. I really am quite flattered,” he continued. “You said such sweet things.”
Kyoraku made eye contact with Byakuya and smiled knowingly. He uncapped the bottle and poured a full glass, sliding it across the table to Byakuya before pouring himself a glass. Raising it to his mouth, he tipped the glass toward Byakuya in acknowledgement.
“Yare yare, my love. I think this letter has been discussed quite enough. Can’t you see how embarrassed the poor boy is?” he drawled, throwing the sake down his throat.
Byakuya took a long sip before looking at Kyoraku appreciatively.
“Oh! Is that true, Kuchiki-kun?” Juushiro asked, looking decently horrified. “I don’t think there’s anything in the letter to be ashamed of, but of course, I respect your feelings and I apologize if I’ve added to the embarrassment!”
Byakuya bowed his head slightly. “I appreciate your words, Ukitake-taicho. If I’m to be entirely honest, the whole ordeal has been nothing short of mortifying.”
“I do wonder, who else has had the pleasure of receiving a handwritten letter from you?” Kyoraku asked with a teasing lilt.
“I would prefer not to disclose any more information than strictly necessary, but even a fool could see the correlation between this fiasco and Kenpachi-taicho knocking our squad’s gate clean off its hinges.”
“Oh-ho!” Kyoraku cheered. “I can’t say I’m entirely surprised by your taste, Bya-chan. I’ve always been rooting for you to shack up with someone ruggedly handsome. And you’re so good with his kid.”
Juushiro’s nearly imperceptible elbow digging into his lover’s side was still noticeable to Byakuya, although he was unsure of its motive.
“Come to think of it, doesn’t little Yachiru roam wildly about your estate, Bya-kun?” Kyoraku asked. “She certainly is nosy and rambunctious enough to find, steal, and send your private letters.”
Byakuya blanched at the thought. It made too much sense for it to have been that pink-haired troublemaker, but he couldn’t justify pouring his rage into teaching her a lesson. She was a child. Frustrating to deal with? Certainly. But she could hardly be aware of the chaos she’d triggered. Still, she needed a talking to.
“You’ve been incredibly generous hosts,” Byakuya said, bowing low to the ground before moving to his feet. “I have a child to find.”
+1.
“It was Yachiru all along,” Byakuya said as he walked into the office.
Renji looked up from his desk startled. He’d been lost quite deep in his thoughts and hadn’t heard his captain approaching. He shook his head and huffed a laugh.
“Figures. She has the most compelling motive: mischief.”
“Mm, indeed,” Byakuya replied. “If you don’t require my assistance, I will be retiring to my estate. I do believe I’ve earned time at the onsen for dealing with such juvenile frivolity.”
“Nah, I don’t need ya. Go enjoy the water,” Renji grinned. “Like ya said, you’ve earned it.”
And with that, he was gone and Renji was left alone with his thoughts once more.
His face fell and he slumped in his chair. It hurt to see countless people across the court guard receive those letters filled with private confessions. Since that night at the estate, neither of them had spoken of what occurred, and his lack of a letter was all Renji needed to drive the point home: Byakuya was simply not interested in him in that way.
A small voice at the back of his head cried that it wasn’t fair, but eh, that’s life.
He knew Byakuya valued him higher than anyone in his life. He was his true right hand and Renji knew the man trusted him implicitly. He wouldn’t have fallen asleep like that if he hadn’t. Considering his goal was to earn his respect, Renji felt beyond satisfied within himself for his loyalty and service, but that would have to be enough for him.
As he wrapped up the final reports of the evening, the third seat squad member entered the office.
“Abarai-fukutaicho,” he said softly, bowing in respect. “I have a letter for you; I’m making the rounds.”
Renji’s eyes raised to the young officer and the parchment in his hand. “Thank you. You may leave that on my desk.”
“Yes, sir!”
As soon as he was gone, Renji moved cautiously over to the letter. He felt his heart pulsing in his head. His hands grew clammy. A cold hollowness gnawed in the pit of his stomach as he picked it up.
Turning it over, he saw his name written in a hand he had no choice but to recognize.
Was this one of the letters? Was he foolish to hope?
He stared at it in his hands, contemplating whether or not to read it. By all odds, this was most likely a formal invitation to some clan festival that he was required to attend as Byakuya’s part-time bodyguard, part-time obvious plus one. He received such invitations often so it was the most obvious answer.
But what if it wasn’t?
Renji wouldn’t dare read Byakuya’s private thoughts and feelings, no matter how desperate and curious he was. He loved and respected him too much to dishonor his trust. The words inscribed, although addressed to him, might not have ever been intended to reach his eyes.
What was he to do?
He couldn’t simply ignore it. No, he was far too curious for that. But he couldn’t read it. Not without Byakuya’s explicit permission.
Mind made up, he flash-stepped as quickly as possible to the estate. It had been several hours since Byakuya made his departure from the barracks, so he was almost definitely finished at the onsen.
Deciding to avoid alerting the staff, Renji landed in Byakuya’s private garden, not far from the pond. He made his way through the yard and up onto the engawa, slipping off his shoes and padding with no sound up to the closed screen.
He took a bolstering breath, but the screen opened before he could find the strength to do so himself.
“Is there a reason you’re lingering on my private porch after hours, Lieutenant?” Byakuya asked coolly, quirking a brow.
His long hair was loosely pinned to the nape of his neck with an ornamental stick and his body was draped in a stunning, royal blue kimono with silver and red embroidery. Pale cheeks were still flushed from the warm water and his posture was noticeably more relaxed than usual.
He was stunning.
Renji felt his hands tremble as he pulled the letter from his robes. He bowed in deep reverence, extending the letter to his captain, his love .
But his captain remained startlingly still.
“What is this, Renji?”
“I was hoping you would answer that same question, taicho.” He straightened to his full height, finding the strength within himself to hold Byakuya’s cool grey gaze. “This letter was delivered to me as I was finishing things up in the barracks. The address to me was written in your hand.”
The even facade Renji had come to expect from his captain appeared to crumble away, every ounce of trepidation visible in his eyes.
“Don’t worry. I didn’t open it.” He swallowed down his nerves and took a step closer. “Byakuya, if this is what I think it is, I don’t want to read it.”
He could tell immediately that he’d said the wrong thing. Tact has never been his forte.
Byakuya’s expression remained unmoved, but in his eyes, Renji could see him retreating to the depths of his mind.
“Shit,” he said under his breath. “What I mean to say is, I refuse to read this, Byakuya. If you are ever ready for me to know the things contained in this letter, I want to hear them from you directly. Not like this. Not against your will.”
Byakuya was silent for a moment. Then he stepped forward and closed Renji’s hand around the letter. Renji watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard.
“Nothing I say now could ever be quite as eloquent as the words written on that paper. I do think it’s best if you read.”
With trembling hands, Renji broke the wax seal and u folded the parchment, revealing Byakuya’s beautiful penmanship and several long lines of thought.
For too long, I’ve masked my feelings with arrogance. Speaking the depths of my heart towards you would mean admitting defeat to a battle I’ve been fighting for too long. So I’m writing this letter.
Feelings such as this haven’t stirred within me since Hisana died. As I’m certain you’ve ascertained after all these years spent under me, feelings are something I find much difficulty in expressing. My family taught me to be this way because the consistent enormity of my emotions are unbecoming of a clan head. I don’t find myself necessarily disagreeing with them in that regard, for my thoughts of you have become quite the distraction.
On a whim, I’ve considered throwing it all away for you.
As it stands, the only arrogance I can find within myself is in regards to you. How else does one express the devotion and tenacious loyalty of their subordinate without boasting? How am I supposed to ever verbalize the magnificence of your raw power without exposing myself?
We’ve never broached the subject of our violent dispute, for which I am eternally grateful. You didn’t just reach me with your fang, beautiful one. You pierced my heart and bled me dry, clearing out the old and making room for newer, deeper emotions within me.
The shame and humiliation that followed nearly consumed me. Through my own haughty ignorance, I nearly lost two who have become closer to me than anyone before. I was wrong and refused to see it. You were willing to give your life to make me learn that lesson, and words do not exist to adequately express my gratitude.
I cannot regret our violence though, as I saw you , the deepest, truest you, that day. You are magnificent; a force beyond reckoning. Wild, raw power surges through your veins and you cannot be contained. Yet you let the expanse of your beautiful omnipotence simmer to walk beside me.
I am wholly unworthy.
How fitting that you are the nue. Only a demon as intricate and enigmatic as the nue could even come close to encapsulating your wonder. You move in silence and strike with the force of a thousand earthquakes. If you willed it, the ground beneath my feet would split in two. And yet you remain benevolent.
It would be false to imply I’ve never feared the wrath of your fang. Although you have a tendency to be brash and willful, your dedication and commitment to your goals earned you your uplevelling faster than anyone I’ve had the pleasure, or displeasure, of witnessing. I feel as if I were a mere mortal who found favor in the eyes of a most powerful deity. That I may even stand in your presence is but the highest honor.
I’ve always felt scattered; my soul disperses like the thousand blades I command. Yet you bring order to the chaos. Only you seem to make sense of my multitudes. Only with you am I truly known.
Let me continue to rest in the space between your paws and I would cast aside this life if you asked that of me; if that were to be the gift to make your soul sing.
~ fin ~