Chapter Text
Byakuya Kuchiki was a man who had things under control most of the time.
Save for the existence of Ichigo Kurosaki, there was one more person he couldn’t put a pin on.
“Isha.”
He got used to your spontaneity throughout the years. From the moment he met you in the middle of an escape attempt at your engagement party, Byakuya knew you were someone who went against the flow of the world.
You looked up from your list of patients, a smile automatically fitting in your features. “Ah, Byakuya.” He had grown to like how his name rolled off your tongue. “Is there something going on?”
Usually, you would ask him if he needed anything, yet now you were asking for something that didn’t require your assistance as if you already knew what it was about. When he needed something from you, he would usually wait until your work ended. When he just wanted to talk, he would come to your break time and join you for tea.
Today, it was the latter. Byakuya wondered how you noticed such small details.
In all honesty, he didn’t know how he would raise it. Back then, he prepared flowers and intimate dinner and then popped up the question to Hisana. For some reason, he figured it would be unoriginal to do the same to you—especially with the numerous flowers you have in your office.
He forgot you got quite a number of admirers.
You have been with him for a century, but it has been merely five years since you have really been with him. He hoped he wasn’t rushing things as everyone was waiting for the two of you in the Kuchiki Manor—decorated fancily with lights and all good food.
The only thing he had to do was invite you there and pop the question with the rest of your friends hiding in surprise.
There was a growing uncertainty in him as he failed to give you a response. It made you drop your papers and push your chair back. Byakuya saw you ruffling something under your desk, then made your way toward him.
You looked troubled as well with the small box in your hand.
“Hmm… how do humans do this again?” You muttered—it was enough for him to hear it. He watched you sigh in resignation, a newly resolved expression on your face as you opened the box to reveal a set of gold-plated rings, asking—
“Byakuya, should we get married?”
Natural. Nonchalant. Necessary.
You had beaten him to it, causing him to bend his head and pull your lips to his in an eager kiss.
The papers you had on your table were forgotten on the floor and so was the dinner party in the Kuchiki Manor with everyone waiting impatiently for the couple.
Byakuya was in a rare sight of nervousness as he walked through one hall after another, searching for his would-be-wife as the ceremony would start in a few minutes. His placid features were still there, mouth in a thin straight line, three white kenseikan holding the bangs of his hair with dark grey eyes heavy-lidded as they slanted in every possible place you could have been.
“Rukia, have you seen her?”
She shook, confused about her brother’s actions when he was supposed to be in the main hall, waiting. “Breathe, Nii-sama. She’s probably as nervous as you too. I’ll go look for her in her quarters.”
Despite her assurance, Byakuya still looked for you. No one knew how you ran away in your last marriage ceremony. No one but him.
Room after room, guest after guest, he finally saw your form in a secluded area by the garden.
You wore a refined shiromuku decorated with carnation pink cherry blossom outlines. Your hair was tied into braids with floral decorations—raised into one graceful bun. There was light makeup on your face, highlighting your natural beauty.
For a second, Byakuya halted. He was entranced—taken in by your appearance that he felt genuinely guilty for taking everything off later on your wedding night. His emotions, which were hidden under his even-tempered demeanor, seeped out by a tad margin.
Your elegance was expected. You were born a noble.
However, Byakuya couldn’t help but wonder if you regretted your choice. You were currently staring at a wall covered with vines as a makeshift ladder.
“Is there something wrong?” he asked, similar to how he did back then.
You slowly shifted to him, still wearing that smile that welcomed him warmly. “I wonder… if I asked for your assistance to help me climb this wall, will you?”
Unknowingly, Byakuya’s stoicism melted into a small, pleasant smile—every ounce of agitation leaving him. He made his way towards you in a stride, taking your hand to place a soft kiss on the place where he would put your promised ring. “If it is what you wish, I shall. However, our guests would discover our tendency to disappear whenever there is an event made for us. The annoyance that follows after would be something I would never hear the end of.”
Byakuya felt his chest lighten in the melody of your laughter, eyes closed to focus on your enjoyment.
Tenderly, you took his hand in yours. “Fortunately, I do want to get married. I can’t say the same thing about this dress though. It’s a bit… suffocating.” You flimsily tried to move. “I’m not used to these kinds of clothes anymore.” Yes, you were far more comfortable with your white coat and pants.
“Then, shall we hurry?” He didn’t wait for your response as his arm went under your knee and the other on your back, hoisting you effortlessly despite the heavy garments. “I shall help you take those clothes off myself after this.”
Your reaction was worth it as it rose into deep shades of red.
The next thing you knew, you were inside the ceremonial hall with every guest gaping at you.
Byakuya just used Shunpo in due impatience. He commanded the facilitator, “Let us start the ceremony.”
Byakuya woke up at the sight of your peaceful sleep.
You still wore the makeup last night as you lost the chance to clean your face. Byakuya had smothered you with attention the moment the door on your personal quarters closed off. He had skipped the formalities of having you cleaned up by your maids before you went to bed.
He said he didn’t mind it one bit—definitely not as he vividly remembered how you appear under those piles of clothing. How your face uttered pleasure. How your fingers felt against his skin. How you whispered his name dangerously to his ears. In every form of pleasantness, you knew where to touch him. Careful and Addicting. “I did study anatomy, Kuchiki-Taichou . Shall I let you know more about it?” The sheer temptation of your last night’s endeavors was reduced into fragments of marking across your neck and shoulders. He relished himself in the view of it as you breathed softly next to him.
You snuggled on the sheets, face on the soft covers as you delved deeper into dreamland.
Byakuya surmised you were having a good dream. Gently, as if touching a fragile glass made just for him, he ran his finger to your cheek, making you squirm lightly at the sensation of his touch. Soon, he found himself smiling.
He could get used to this.
With an arm propped up on his pillow, Byakuya observed your sleeping face. You would make amusing reactions one after another—a frown, a smile, and something he couldn’t quite explain as your brows would furrow with a string of sounds coming from your mouth.
“No… Wakame… you can’t… you’re a cookie.”
Byakuya stifled a chuckle. He needed to know what your dream was.
But it could wait until you wake up. He hoped you wouldn’t mind if he brought it up during breakfast.