Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Freedom Lost With Our Innocence ❯ Freedom Lost With Our Innocence ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Kiyone Koutestu and Captain Byakuya Kuchiki meet accidentally on the day before the Hitsugaya mission departs for the human world. One of the promised one-shots from the same AU as 'Different Circumstances' and 'For The Love of a Friend'.

Anime/Manga: Bleach Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Hentai / Romance | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 12.17.2009 | Updated On: 01.03.2010 | Pages: 8 | Words: 15.4K | Visits: 828 | Status: Completed

Tite Kubo owns Bleach and the characters depicted therein. The characters and settings in this story do not belong to me.

Freedom Lost With Our Innocence

No matter how many times she looked in the mirror and prayed to whichever deity that might be listening, nothing changed. As she grew, her face remained the same: plump cheeked, young and innocent. No matter what she did her eyes lacked guile. There was never any hint of mystery in them; no glamour was apparent even when she used mascara and eyeliner. Instead of achieving that effect, it made her look like she needed a good night's sleep. Trying different expressions either made her giggle or despair. Copying the flirtatious looks she'd seen other students use convinced her that using it in public would either cause confusion or amusement.

“Have you got something in your eye?” Isane had asked her on one occasion when she found her staring, with difficulty, into the mirror during one of her attempts to change her look. She'd finished applying mascara and eyeliner on one eye and curled her hands protectively over the makeup she'd been using, embarrassed at this evidence of her vanity.

“No.” Her voice emerged as a squeak.

“It looks like you do. Do you want me to see if I can get it out for you? Or did another girl punch you? It looks like it's bruised.” Isane was trying to be kind and was already showing skills in healing.

“There's nothing wrong with my eye. I'm experimenting with makeup,” Kiyone was resentful at having to admit the truth.

Isane looked at her and then nodded slightly before walking away. Kiyone wasn't sure, but she thought, while hoping it wasn't true, that maybe she heard Isane giggle as she moved away.

After that Kiyone made certain she was alone and the door was locked before she tried cosmetics or any new expressions. Explanations wasted time and made her feel foolish.

The only comfort she had was she wasn't as tall as her sister. That was little consolation when she noticed her sister's figure and beauty, though Isane always assumed she was too tall for beauty. The saving grace that prevented resentment was her sister had never grown into her body and remained gawky and never took compliments seriously.

Makeup wasn't the only matter over which they had different ideas. Time after time her sister told her she was too impetuous; falling in and out of infatuations so quickly, barely drawing breath between adoring and pining for one person and then, when disappointment overtook passion, transferring her affections to another. If her interest was returned, her craze for the person faded quickly. If the boy liked her there was obviously something wrong with him and, in her mind, the known quantity was of less fascination than the new and possibly unmoving object, at first. Those were the most tragic of her relationships as she gloried in the angst of unrequited love, persuaded, for hours, that her heart would never be captured by another and that she would die of heartache. Love was everything and each single sided romance meant she had chosen wrongly or been misguided due to some bad karma from her previous existence. True love must come; it would come to her, eventually. As she grew and matured the chosen subjects varied greatly, some attracting her by their looks, their charm, their knowledge, their sense of humour, or even because of their seeming dislike of her. Occasionally she would even try to talk herself out of some particularly ill considered attachment, without success and she suffered through the normal short cycle of longing, loving, regret and indifference.

As she grew older, she changed her tactics. Instead of fleeing those who returned her affection, she would put aside everything to spend every moment of every day with her love. Fluttering, flirting, trying alternatively to be cute, alluring, intelligent, amusing, but most of all longing, with all her being, that this time it would last. After a few days, or very occasionally weeks, of this attention her `lover' would begin to avoid her. When she spoke about it to Isane, her heart bursting with grief and neglect, her sister would quietly suggest that she was stifling the love. That people required time to be with friends, or to be alone.

It made no sense to Kiyone. If you were `in love' every moment should be devoted to the one held in the heart. All other activities were superfluous. And then she made her worst mistake.

Just before entering the Academy, Kiyone met a man who assured her that he returned her affection, but he was elusive. Days would pass when he was unavailable and she grieved, losing her appetite. If she was going to see him she couldn't eat due to excitement or concentrate because of the joy that filled her heart. If he was unavailable, her mind was full of fears and self recrimination which made thinking about anything else near impossible. By this time Isane was very unwilling to either discuss or even advise Kiyone about her erratic love life. Her previous advice had been ignored too often.

One afternoon after another cancelled meeting, Kiyone sat looking into the Koi pool, tears dripping down her face into the water as she sobbed. She was completely miserable and looking for sympathy when Isane walked past. Isane paused, possibly alerted by the sobbing, and Kiyone appealed to her sister, insisting that this time she would follow her advice. Isane stared at her for long moments, biting her lip uncertainly. Certain she was weakening, Kiyone tried her best.

Wiping her eyes and stifling her sobs, resulting in a few hiccups she smiled weakly. “You know so much and you're so clever. What should I do? If you don't help me, I'll, I'll…” she frantically thought of the best threat she could muster, “I won't got to the Academy.”

Isane's shocked look was accompanied by single nod. “He might be married,” Isane told her. “He is 30 years older than you and you've told me he won't talk about his home or his life.”

“He told me I'm the only woman for him,” Kiyone gushed miserably. “How could he be married if he said that?”

Stifling a harried sigh Isane answered “Easily. Not everyone always tells the truth. You know that. Remember when the stall keeper assured you that the eggs were fresh but they were addled?”

“That was a mistake,” Kiyone said, hating to once again recall that particular incident. “He apologised and gave me fresh ones when I explained it to him.”

“And you paid him more. Kiyone, you are my baby sister and I love you dearly, but unless you follow my advice you'll end up being conned by every rip-off artist you meet,” Isane hugged Kiyone's as she spoke.

“I prefer to trust people instead of thinking they're all out to get something from me,” was her feeble protest.

With irritated patience Isane said, “You could at least trust me. The man is not honest. You introduced us and… and…” she faltered, apparently reluctant to speak the truth and break her sister's dream.

“And what? He didn't do or say anything wrong.” Kiyone searched her memory and nothing about the meeting could be considered disturbing.

The expressions that crossed Isane's face were fleeting, but disturbed. “He looked at me.”

Kiyone felt nonplussed. It was a strange thing to say. “He looked at you? Of course he did. You always look at people when you talk to them.”

“Not only at the person's chest, sister. He didn't raise his eyes above my neckline,” was the whispered reply.

“That's because you're so tall,” was the only defence Kiyone could offer. He could not have acted in such a way. Isane must be mistaken.

Isane flushed at the retort and turned away. Being once more reminded about her size made her drop the subject, as Kiyone had half intended. The other part of the conversation, about where her lovers gaze had remained fixed, she forgot as quickly as possible.

Days later Kiyone again found she was recounting more sordid details to her sister, hoping once more for comfort.

“I saw him with another woman and when I confronted him, he admitted she was his wife. He said he was in the process of divorcing her because she didn't understand him and then he asked me to be patient; to wait for him. Should I?”

Taking a deep breath Isane paused before she said, “No.”

“But his wife doesn't understand him. She keeps trying to stifle him and makes fun of his dreams. They don't even have sex any more.”

Isane's small smile infuriated Kiyone and the words didn't help. “She probably understands him very well.”

Not wishing to hear any more, and angry that she wasn't receiving the expected support, Kiyone gabbled a few words and walked away heading to a bar she sometimes frequented. A few drinks later and her anger at her sister grew stronger. Isane shouldn't judge her like that; they were sisters. Her lover would divorce his wife and then marry her and she wouldn't ask her sister to the wedding. No, she would invite her just to make a point but she wouldn't be a member of the bridal party. No, she'd send Isane an invitation, after the wedding.

The next day she received a short, blunt message from her boyfriend. It was over. He had to think of the children.

She didn't know he had children.

With the normal logic of love, her anger was directed at her sister for being right. Fearing to see either the resignation, relief, satisfaction or any emotion on her sisters' face that would remind her of her mistake she avoided her, blessing the fact that they were due to join the Academy shortly after she received the message. Pleading the excuse of study or lessons she managed to keep her distance from Isane until her battered heart had recovered. Swearing off love was her first step in her decision to begin a new life. Instead of love she would study.

Her resolve lasted days, and then she noticed that she was surrounded by men, lots of attractive men, most of them more intelligent and handsome than her earlier infatuations.

Promise forgotten, life at the Academy saw her developing crushes on instructor after instructor. Most were amused by her easy ability to see some new and adorable aspect that had been undiscovered until her quick perception had imbued them with the new trait, but none took her seriously. Student passions were commonplace and dangerous. None of them wanted to become involved with a pretty but erratic and immature Shinigami-in-training. The Academy's founder had provided strict rules of conduct and the fines and penalties were formidable. No instructor who wished to retain his or her job would be prepared to indulge in a relationship that could only have an unpleasant result for both the instructor and student.

Bewildered by her failure with the instructors, she turned her attention swiftly to her fellow students and suffered more. Determined to be active in seeking her soul mate, she confessed to first one peer and then another, after convincing her more sensible side, that a glance, a word, anything that seemed out of the normal range of responses might indicate an interest. Regularly her words were met with laughter or disbelief and only twice with was she offered friendship instead of the love she sought. It became a joke and after many rebuffs and failures it struck her that it must be her appearance that failed her, not her actions. Wearing the same outfit as the others concealed her unique nature and did nothing to display her figure to its best. Eventually, accepting that her romantic escapades were hurting her chances at graduation, she studied, grudgingly. As her skills developed she took more pleasure in the work, but still longed for a love returned.

Upon graduation she attempted to change the look of her standard Shinigami uniform. There was little she could do about her hair. Try as she would, it wouldn't grow fast, preferring to frame her face with the curly wisps and she despaired of making look sleek and mature. Determined to at least make an impression she began to wear a lace collar and gloves. Her hands were okay, but not very pretty. The gloves drew attention to their small size and elegant fingers.

After having floated from heartbreak to hope through the Academy, she felt that finally things had changed. Forget her foolish ideas and half formed attachments! They had been the heart hungry promptings that presaged the one true passion of her life. Her captain. She loved him. It was that simple. From the first moment she had been appointed to his Division she had been thrilled. The stories told about the man had appealed to her, his kindness, his grace and sweetness and his sickness made him a romantic figure to a young Shinigami. She hankered to run her fingers through his long, luxurious hair and lie with him, caring for him through his fever ridden nights. On occasion she imagined that he would turn his soft but shrewd eyes upon her and see through to her quivering heart, notice and acknowledge the overflowing love and in an instant return it. A gentle kiss on her cheek would seal their union and they would never be parted. Given the right amount of encouragement and appreciation of her qualities, it was only a matter of waiting until he returned her love.

Of course it didn't work out that way. Not long after joining 13th Division she fell in love with the lieutenant as well as the Captain. Kaien Shiba was everything her captain was not. Vibrant, healthy, noisy, with a vigorous disrespect of many of the rules, he joked and argued with anyone, always with good humour. The major problem was he was married to a beautiful and graceful woman whom Kiyone half loved as well. She never hoped for guilty kisses or surreptitious passion from Kaien and the love that she felt for the Captain still burned within her breast, growing more hopeless with the passing years.

In part she blamed one person for her failure to capture her Captain's attention. One man who she knew would never move her heart except with anger and dislike. Why he didn't just retire and leave the field open for her she didn't know. All he offered were empty words, disorder, deceit and hollow promises, but no matter what she said or did, he wouldn't go away. Without knowing how to rid her Division of the man she began hate Sentaro Kotsubaki. When she thought he'd notice she'd call him Kotsubaka, but he either didn't notice or didn't care. That stung even more.

If she was trying to soothe her Captain's brow with a specially scented and warmed cloth, he'd be there, trying to replace it with a cold one. If she argued he would say the cold was more of a restorative and would add clarity while her warm cloths would only make his beloved Captain sleepy and hurt his head. Every time he contradicted her, she burned to prove her loyalty and love to Captain Ukitake. In her imagination she conversed with him, calling him Jushiro and he laughed and told her that of course he preferred her to tend him, but he had to be fair. The fantasy would go further and they would hide from Kotsubaku, wait until he left and then they would emerge, embrace and revel in his absence.

If only those dreams were true. Instead her Captain remained unfailingly polite and kind to both of them. Accepting the attention with equal grace from both, thanking them for any duty performed and praising both of them for their dedication to duty and his health. There were instances where she thought she saw a look of exasperation

When the `princess' arrived everything changed again. Rukia Kuchiki wasn't forced, or expected, to graduate from the Academy. Not because she was especially talented, not because her skills at kido outshone those around her, not because hers was the most beautiful zanpakuto (or so some idiots believed) and not because her fighting was more than adequate, but because she had been adopted into the noble Kuchiki clan.

At first, Kiyone had been inclined to resent Rukia. However Kaien was quick to help the new arrival and that reinforced the grudge. As she was supported by one of the first four noble families, she assumed that Rukia would act as though she was superior, but she didn't. She performed her duties and was always unfailingly polite to Kiyone, even introducing her formally to her brother. That assisted in changing her opinion of Rukia completely. She didn't adopt any superior attitude and she had Captain Kuchiki as a brother. A brother whom she treated with even more formality than her own Captain.

The introduction to Captain Kuchiki transformed everything for Kiyone. That day, that fateful day, she had raised her eyes and looked in Byakuya's dark gaze and in a heartbeat all her other loves were pushed to one side. Of course she still loved her Captain and Kaien, but that was before she had been dazzled by the cool dignity and noble visage of Captain Byakuya Kuchiki.

His midnight black hair with the sheen of blue that reminded her of the clear summer night sky. The slight slant to the eyes that made them seem both sleepy and disinterested at the same time. The mouth that seemed to be down turned through disappointment or sadness. The hair clasps that made her long to remove them and then rub her hands and face through the length of bound hair, inhaling his fragrance and letting the human silk caress her cheeks and forehead. Removing the scarf and then undressing him, using the scarf to bind them together so they would never part. Kissing the sad eyes, the drooping mouth, the proudly arching nose and the sensual curve of his ear. Her love life might lack any development but her fantasy life was rich and full.

Kaien's death was a harsh blow and she had genuinely mourned him. She still loved him, but now it seemed a pure passion because it could never be realised. A certain element of pride was mixed with her feelings as she had never declared her love to him. That was partly due to his marriage, partly due the problem that she was rarely alone with him and she was a little worried about his reaction. Her experiences at the Academy had taught her some discretion, or because she did care for him and feared rejection, it seemed wrong. Rukia admitted to killing Kaien and despite the assurance from Captain Ukitake that it was the only option, Kiyone kept her distance from Rukia, yet she never forgot her brother.

After her lieutenant's death, she thought about Captain Kuchiki more often. His image dominated her thoughts when she was asleep or awake. She'd had erotic thoughts before, and had on rare occasions acted upon them, but not with this depth of urgency. Sleep promised dreams which heavily featured the Captain in a very active role that made her skin flush if any of the incidents played across her mind during the day. While she still loved her Captain with rare passion, he did not rouse the pure animal lust that Byakuya urged in her blood.

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Captain Byakuya Kuchiki was bored. So very bored with all that was happening in his life. Rukia provided some welcome relief from the tedium and she was the only person that brought him any type of contentment, but this was only since the coming of the ryoka. Before then he had only experienced regret and embarrassment from her presence. Boredom was an emotion which he could admit to experiencing, so he pretended that was how he felt. To admit to another emotion was dangerous and would lead his thoughts down dangerous byways.

He had found the girl as Hisana had requested, but too late. Too late to make any difference in keeping his wife alive. His duty done, he lost interest as it didn't make him feel better to fulfil a death bed promise. His wife remained dead. There was no benediction from beyond to make his life easier to bear. Duty had been done, but with no expectation of reward. Duty was his sole reason for survival, otherwise he might have considered following his wife in her latest and final absence.

Through their marriage she had been absent so regularly, both physically and mentally. He'd loved her with every inhalation of breath; she was enough for him. Why couldn't he be enough for her; fill her life so she wouldn't pine after some supposed sister? They could have been happy, had children, spent loving days and nights together, but she exhausted herself searching, guilt-ridden and sad. Every so often through their marriage the bitterness overcame him. Most women would have devoted their lives to repayment for his recognition and love, committed their lives to pleasing him, but he hadn't chosen any of them. He'd chosen Hisana, his treasured wife.

The unacknowledged resentment built within him as he again remembered her fevered search for Rukia, making her uncertain health worse by the unnecessary stresses she placed on her feeble body. Crying when she thought she was alone, blaming herself for her desertion of a child when she had been little older than a child herself. Assuring him that once she had found Rukia, she would dedicate her life to him and provide the Kuchiki heir she would smile bravely. His heart would swell and he wished that it could happen swiftly, but the interminable search continued.

Shuddering he remembered introducing Hisana to his family and their uncomprehending expressions when he explained they were to be wed. She had nothing to offer the nobility: no wealth, no fame, no connections, no special talent, just her beauty and gentleness. Despite all the imagined `lacks' she had everything he wanted in a wife and a partner, except…. Except her desperate need to find her sister and the demands this made on their marriage, her life and her health. Since her death he had suppressed his emotions, most particularly the love he had felt for her. Though he could not forget her, he knew there was little point in recalling the way he felt when he was with her. No woman would ever rouse that passion within him again.

If there had been no Rukia, would his Hisana have succumbed so quickly to the disease? He had not dared to ask Captain Unohana in case it was true and the resentment would grow ever stronger. No matter; he'd already blamed Rukia for Hisana's death and looking at the girl was like looking at a strangely distorted vision of her sister; one that contain all the imperfections and none of the gentle beauty.

The coming of the ryoka, the betrayal by the three captains, the battle with Ichigo; those events had changed his life. Rukia did not wish her sister to waste her life trying to find her. On being told of the search she'd wept and expressed her guilt over inadvertently causing her sister's death. Her sincerity was a turning point and enabled Byakuya to put aside the building resentment. There was no point and he was tired. Nothing would bring Hisana back, no amount of sacrifices, prayers or fights. He still had his heritage to prescribe how he should live and he followed the rules religiously, but now relaxed them here and there for Rukia. When she sat quietly, her hands folded and her eyes downcast, for a brief space he could imagine that Hisana had returned and was pleased with him. Rukia no longer appeared as a distorted copy of his wife, but as a sister to both Hisana and himself.

Once the tension between them relaxed slightly he found he enjoyed her humour and abilities and regretted, slightly, that his intervention had prevented her from obtaining the seat that was rightfully hers; but at the same time he was concerned that she would become overconfident and attempt things beyond her ability. Having lost her sister, he did not wish to lose her also. Over the years, a grudging affection had developed, for all he tried to deny any attachment to the girl.

But now he was bored again with his work and his disdain for those around him grew. Mediocrity seemed to rule the Seireitei, rather than nobler emotions. The war was approaching, but Genryuusai had not yet commenced planning the action they needed to take. Once more the old man was taking his own counsel and excluding others. As the deserters were gone, Byakuya had wondered if he would be more open to discussion with his senior officers, but he wasn't.

Abarai continued to be a constant irritation. The man veered between arrogance, insubordination, adoration and humility. The mixture of conflicting attentions was both nauseating and farcical. His constant presence annoyed Byakuya as there was an unspoken expectation that he didn't wish to investigate. Fortunately, he had crushed the man's romantic attachment to Rukia. Her quick agreement to keeping the man at a distance had proven that she had taken her lessons seriously and recognised that her former friend was not a worthy spouse for the daughter of a noble house. However Abarai still watched her with avid eyes, regret filling his face all too often.

Even with all these distractions, Byakuya was restless. After the turmoil he had anticipated a return to the simpler life, only to find it bored him. Training, paperwork, meetings blurred into each other as so much monotony.

Even the Kenpachi's abortive attempts to fight him, ceased to amuse. The last time he'd brushed off the man's invitation for battle, he'd been subjected to the intrusive one eyed stare of the man. It had been after the Captain's meeting where the decision was made to send forces to assist Kurosaki in the human world. He'd accidentally bumped into the Kenpachi who immediately assumed that a fight was in the offing.

“It was an accident, nothing more. Please remove your offensive face from such close proximity. I do not desire to fight you,” he told the 11th Division Captain.

“You're becoming as sour as an old maid,” was the return comment and he felt that he was being subjected to an unwanted observation.

“Your comments are insulting,” was his reply.

“Wanna fight me?”

“No.”

“Oh, loosen up, Kuchiki. What you need is a good screw. When was the last time you had a decent fuck?” The leer that accompanied the question was not short of insulting, it was extremely invasive and rude.

Standing there, Byakuya wondered how to respond. The words were impertinent enough to tempt him to fight, but he didn't want to stoop to this man's level. What shamed him more was the words struck a chord deep within him. There had been a lack of sexual pleasure in his life and he was a normal man with normal desires, for all that he was a noble. He had to choose his response carefully so not to lose face.

He'd heard the rumours about the Kenpachi and his addiction to sex. The rest of it he ignored; not interested in the quickly formed liaisons that seemed to proliferate in the Seireitei. Quickly formed and quickly dissolved. Family seemed to have more permanence than love, if the emotional entanglements could attract that label.

“Not everything can be solved with sex or violence, Kenpachi,” was his moderate reply.

“Yes it can. Or if it can't, I'm not interested.”

He had to hide the smile that was threatening to form on his mouth. It would be easy to have such an uncomplicated view of life, but he could not afford that type of indulgence.

“I, however, need to observe the dictates of my family. And you, as a captain, should maintain discretion and be careful that when choosing a sexual partner that he or she will be prepared to also exercise prudence,” Byakuya was impressed with his moderation. “If you choose to form a liaison, make the arrangements discreetly with a person who is willing and preferably maintains a low profile. The affair should only be known to you and your partner.”

The loud laughter which met his comments showed that he was probably going to be ignored. “You're missing out...” a messenger briefly appeared and whispered something to the 11th Division Captain. “What? Oh yeah, I forgot. Gotta go. Got the bathhouse booked.”

With that brief comment the man left before he had a chance to reply. He knew there was no point in following, nor did he want to. It was a relief to have the man out of his face.

Returning to his duties was an obligation. He obliged but stared moodily out of the window, ignoring Abarai's chatter of excitement about the forthcoming mission. The subtle hints and cold rebukes only suppressed his excitement for a short time before he either began humming or talking. The constant nuisance provided him with renewed anticipation of time without needing to accommodate his subordinate's idiosyncrasies. The only time he felt a flicker of interest was when his sister came and bid him farewell. She didn't seem happy about leaving, nor did she seem very happy at the attention Abarai was showing, but acted like a dutiful sister. He knew he could trust her not to permit his subordinate to become too close while they were absent.

Renji followed Rukia out and was gone for some time. In the peace he made and drank some tea. While it was refreshing and pleasant, the taste was unfamiliar. Drinking some water he felt a strange frisson pass through him but the noisy return of Abarai drew his attention away from the physical reaction. His lieutenant was fuelled by the gossip he'd overheard which he spared no time sharing.

“Captain Zaraki and Lieutenant Rangiku Matsumoto,” he began; his voice was a mixture of relief, regret and excitement.

Byakuya leant back in his chair and coolly raised his eyebrow, anticipating that Abarai would notice and cease his chatter. He didn't.

“They're an item. He carried her out of the bathhouse dressed only in his coat and took her back to his quarters. That's it. It's over and too late for anyone else. Half the male population of the Seireitei are in mourning. The other half are thinking about getting drunk.”

“I observe you are not doing either and I am unmoved by this gossip, so therefore your generalisation is incorrect. I am sure her Captain will intercede,” not that Byakuya cared either way. The woman was attractive enough, but immodest, indiscreet, lazy, possibly unchaste, and certainly imprudent. The factor which irked him the most was her previous attachment to Ichimaru. There were some who had questioned her loyalty in wake of the traitors' departure but he had held aloof from the discussion. She was not an appropriate choice for a Captain and in light of his earlier discussion with the 11th Division Captain he felt that the man was deliberately insulting him.

“Captain Hitsugaya's on is way to talk to them,” Abarai paused and then said, “I don't know why. It seems sort of strange that this should happen today.”

He found he was nodding in agreement. The Kenpachi had meant to offend him. “Yes it does. You are excused, lieutenant. I'm sure you have urgent preparations to make for tomorrow.”

Abarai stood, wavering, apparently not certain if he should leave. “Do you want me to do anything? Are you going to get involved?”

Carefully raising his eyebrow, he asked, “What action do you think I should take? The matter interests me not at all.”

Looking harried, Abarai ran a hand over his face. “The Captain was pretty obvious. It might look bad.”

Straightening his back fully, Byakuya gazed keenly at his lieutenant. “Are you dictating the behaviour that a captain should adopt?”

“No. No. I'll go now, Sir.” The man left hurriedly and Byakuya was left alone with his thoughts.

In many ways the man was correct. The flagrant disregard the Kenpachi was displaying for proprietary was insulting to all Captains. Until now he had been relatively discreet in his dealings. He never made a secret of having an affair with someone, but he had never done so in such a public manner. The woman he'd chosen was tainted by her former liaison with Ichimaru and by carrying her back to his quarters dressed in his clothing; he was sending an unmistakable statement to the rest of the Seireitei.

He couldn't condone such behaviour and while his relationship with the man was not friendly, he should advise him once more of the potential problems he would face. Steadily he thought the matter through, established his arguments and decisively rose to his feet and made his way to 11th Division.

As he arrived he noticed three shamed figures emerging from the Captain's quarters. They spoke briefly and then parted, each looking amused, upset or resigned according to their nature. He was certain he saw the trace of tears on the Yachiru's cheeks as she brushed past him.

Whatever the problem was, it was of an internal nature and he did not care to know or intercede. Resolutely he went to the door, knocked and entered before he could be told to leave.

“Piss off. I don't want to talk to anyone… It's you. If you've come to spout at me I don't want to know. Get out,” was the level of greeting he received. The man was seated at a table displaying a mixture of satisfaction and rage.

“Captain Zaraki, I believe we spoke earlier about the importance of choosing our partners discreetly,” he began.

“No. You shot your mouth off.”

The man was impossible. “I provided some sound advice which you have chosen to ignore. All is not lost. You can tell the woman it was a one time event only and will not be repeated.”

“No.”

“She was involved with Ichimaru.”

“And?”

“Isn't that enough? No one associates her name with discretion. Lieutenant Matsumoto will not be a satisfactory long term partner for you, considering her history.”

A leering smile crossed the man's face. “You wouldn't say that if you'd ever fucked her; and you better not fucking try or I'll kill you. She's mine.”

A sudden image rose in his mind that caused his blood to heat. With some difficulty he dismissed the vision and tried to return his concentration to the conversation. “As she's leaving tomorrow, it shouldn't be an issue. You can ignore her when she returns.”

Then he noticed the Kenpachi's face darken with rage as he quickly stood and towered over him. Strangely his speech became more formal as if he was trying to impress Byakuya with his words. “I told you, it's none of your business. I understand that you visited me to tell me your opinion, but I don't see why I should pay any notice. If you want to challenge me about it I'll fight you later, not tonight.” Byakuya fought hard to maintain his grip on his emotional reaction to the physical threat posed by the man.

“Why should I fight you? You betray your dignity as a Captain. You're making a mistake, Captain Zaraki. Why couldn't you choose someone less noticeable? You could have, at least, been more circumspect when you make your choice. I realise that you, as a commoner, are not aware of the social niceties but Captains' should maintain discretion about their sexual dealings.” He was pleased to hear his voice sound normal.

A knock at the door interrupted their conversation.

“Enter,” ordered the Kenpachi.

The object of their discussion entered the room. With her appearance the atmosphere in the room changed considerably. The reciprocal lust was overwhelming and without knowing what was happening he began to be intoxicated by their powerful emotions. An intangible longing overtook him that was sparked by the raw passion that he witnessed and it dawned on him he should leave the room quickly before he was forcibly removed or his reactions became more confused.

“I'll bid you farewell, Captain. We'll talk of this later,” Captain Kuchiki said. He left the room and almost staggered once he had closed the door behind him. It felt like he'd received a powerful stimulus to his solar plexus and he wanted sex, now.

As usual when he was trying to deal with a complex set of emotions that were difficult to satisfy, he decided to return to his quarters and reflect. The anger he felt at the Kenpachi was contrasted against the need for indulgence in pleasure. His reactions were both wrong and upsetting. Perhaps some wine would help him shed some of the emotional excess.

As he walked he encountered a female, someone he had met briefly when he visited Rukia in her Division. Displaying a nice understanding of protocol, she politely introduced the female providing her name and designation. She shared the third seat with some shambling hulk that interested him not at all. The girl was young and gushing in her enthusiasm when she greeted him. He'd smiled and nodded politely in return and immediately forgot her. Now she was here and looking rather flushed. He suspected she might have been drinking and that suspicion led him to the desire to imbibe in the time honoured method to soothe his rising anger.

“It's a pleasant evening, Captain Kuchiki. Can I do anything for you,” the girl asked.

Searching his memory he recollected her name. “Good evening, Third Seat Koutestu.” After replying to her greeting, he prepared to walk on.

“Is something bothering you, Captain. I can see that you're frowning and maybe I can assist you,” the girl's voice squeaked a little on the last word and he wondered why.

“There is nothing worrying me,” he said. Why should he worry about the Kenpachi's actions? It only reflected on the man and that violent Division he commanded. He had made a mistake in talking to him and his future interactions with him would be severely limited. A commoner ignoring common sense! Recollecting where he was he nodded briefly again and commenced the short walk that would take him back to his Division. In his current state of mind he did not feel like returning to his family home.

The sound of footsteps alerted him that some person had chosen to follow him. Spinning around, preparing to draw his blade he saw that it was the girl he had politely dismissed. “I do not understand why you are following me. You would be wise to return to your Division immediately.”

The girl smiled at him. “How very kind you are to think of my safety, but I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to talk to you about…about…”

Why was she hesitating? What could be so disturbing that she didn't want to mention it?

“I wanted to talk to you about your sister, Rukia Kuchiki,” she burst out, “But in private.”

He tried to ignore her gaze which appeared to be slightly fuzzy. The way her eyes were watching him made him feel wary and made him conscious that being alone with this young female might be a mistake.

At the same time he couldn't suppress the growing feeling of lust that had been fuelled by seeing the interaction between the Kenpachi and the woman. Remembering the impertinent questions asked by the man he tried to remember the last time he'd indulged in sexual activity and as the days added together the unpleasant truth was forced on him. It had been too long and even allowing his mind to briefly linger over his sexual needs made the yearning to indulge become an urgent desire. Once more he tried to suppress the impulse, firmly pushing those thoughts away.

“What do you wish to discuss?”

“I can't tell you here,” her eyes scanned his face and she tried to smile.

In his role as elder brother he should listen to this person to see if there were any problems which he could solve. Grudgingly he invited her to accompany him as he made his way back to the accommodation he retained in his Division.

As soon as they were in the door, the enticement to indulge some of his low passions almost overcame him. To dampen his base urges he poured and drank some sake. As a host he knew he should offer some to his `guest', but his need was greater.

Briefly they talked about Rukia. Nothing the third seat had to say was either new or of great importance. She touched briefly on how much the Division missed the lieutenant with especial emphasis on his sister which he ignored. The conversation was not diverting or informative and his face became bland and aloof. In a few minutes he would ask her to leave. Then he remembered his conversation with Captain Zaraki and the irritation he'd felt returned.

“What's wrong, Captain Kuchiki?” the girl asked once more.

Drinking another cup he felt some of his inhibitions crumble. She seemed genuinely interested and he rarely shared his troubles with anyone. “Captain Zaraki is unreasonable.”

A giggle greeted his comment and the girl smiled at him. He really should remember her first name if he was going to spend any time with her and he again tried to remember what it was. Rukia had mentioned it during the introduction but it remained elusive.

“Captain Zaraki is unreasonable,” she said laughter colouring her words. “Did he offer to fight you again?”

Did everyone know about that? Gossip was rife in the Seireitei. “Yes,” he said remembering their earlier encounter. The anger from his encounter began to build once more and he quickly refilled his cup and consumed the contents. Normally he didn't drink this fast but the unusual mix of emotions was disquieting and his normal ability to deal with them seemed impaired. “He dismissed me when Lieutenant Matsumoto knocked on the door.” Again he felt incensed at how he had been told to leave, like he was the man's underling.

“Is it true?” she asked excitedly.

Kiyone! Suddenly he remembered her name was Kiyone. Another name starting with a K on this day when he'd had his irritation roused to new levels by another person whose name started with that letter. The lurch in his stomach indicated what she might be asking about.

“Did Captain Zaraki really carry Lieutenant Matsumoto back to his quarters dressed in his coat?” Her face seemed eager and her prurient interest made his control slip.

“So I believe,” he was curt in his response. The man had no understanding of the importance of restraint and dignity.

Kiyone looked at him as if waiting for him to continue. “In my role as the more senior captain I visited him to offer my views on the relationship. In return he threatened to fight me and ignored all my suggestions. The man has no understanding how the dignity of the Gotei 13 rests upon each Captain's shoulders and must be maintained at all times. Indulging in a flagrant affair with the ex-mistress of a traitor brings us all into disrepute.” Recalling the conversation, Byakuya was almost inclined to return and challenge the man to the fight he'd sought earlier.

Her eyes didn't leave his face as he spoke. “You put things so clearly Captain. I agree with you. Captain Zaraki should have listened.” He noticed a strange expression cross her face as she was talking. It resembled longing, which made him wonder if she had an interest in the 11th Division Captain.

Deciding to change the subject he asked some questions about Rukia's progress that had been omitted from the earlier discussion. Barely listening to the replies he continued to question Kiyone to prevent further discussion about the earlier incident. If he didn't think about it, the feeling of humiliation might decrease.

An idea formed in his mind. This girl might have a clearer understanding of his sister's relationship with the human interloper, Ichigo. Deciding that the chance was too good to permit to pass he began to phrase his interrogation to centre on that relationship and his questions became increasingly more intimate. Had Rukia formed a sexual liaison with the boy?

Kiyone smiled at him, and for the first time he noticed the underlying invitation. “I'll tell you everything you ask, but I want a drink. If we're chatting, it's nicer to have something to clear the throat every so often.” Did he imagine it, or did she gaze at him from under her lashes, or was she very tired? It was unimaginable that she would be flirting with him. The he felt a frisson of shock that he'd noticed. Trying to hide his surprise he poured her a glass of water which she drank thirstily and then frowned slightly. As she held up the cup he refilled it and she also drank it dry and frowned even deeper as colour flushed her cheeks and her eyes glittered slightly in the light.

“May I have some wine? The water is unusual, but wine will loosen my tongue more,” she said, her voice low.

Byakuya nodded and went to a cupboard where he kept the wine. Choosing a plum variety, which had a pleasant flavour, he poured them both a cup. Any secrets Kiyone might impart regarding Rukia were worth the time spent in her company and some wine. He sometimes wondered if his sister was happy. Since Hisana had died he had never really cared about another person's happiness.

Kiyone lifted the cup in a toast and then sipped. Her tongue languorously licked her lips, removing a drop of wine that clung to the lower lip, drawing his attention there. His body reacted while his mind recognised the calculation in her gesture. She was not the type of female he admired or usually would contemplate being intimate with, but something about the night and the events of the day were sensitising him to his suppressed urges.

He cleared his throat and quickly asked, “Do you know if Rukia was close with the Kurosaki child?”

“They are friends,” Kiyone giggled. “Very good friends. She slept in the wardrobe in his bedroom and she says she'll sleep there again.”

This fact had never been disclosed to him previously. “Not in his bed?”

Shaking her head, she giggled further. “Rukia said nothing happened.” The smile that covered her face indicated that Kiyone did not believe her.

“She said that?” he said aloud as his mind raced. Rukia was due to return to the human world the next day and if there had been anything between the boy and her, it could commence again. In light of this information he made a decision. He would insist that his lieutenant watched Rukia carefully but that might ignite the man's interest Rukia.. To counterbalance that he'd also request that as he was friends with the thugs from 11th Division that they keep a close eye on her also to make certain that any romantic alliance was stifled. He didn't know how he could prevent her sleeping in the boy's wardrobe, but there had to be a way. He'd mention that to Abarai also.

******************************************************************

She was alone with Byakuya! At last they were together without anyone to interfere. They were talking and he was listening to her. It was a pity that they were talking about his sister, but it was early still. It was hard to resist the impulse to flirt with him, so she didn't. Trying to keep it subtle wasn't easy but she'd stupidly tried looking at him from under her eyelashes and knew immediately it had been a mistake. Perhaps more direct methods were required, or should she stick to subtle? Her thoughts were churning and she changes her mind so often that she wasn't certain which idea was the one that seemed the most sensible.

The sweet wine tasted of victory and made her mouth tingle. As it slipped down her throat she felt like giggling. She'd drunk a considerable amount already but was certain that a little more wouldn't hurt. It wasn't likely that Cap… Byakuya would take advantage of her and even if he tried, she would welcome his embrace.

Once the conversation had turned to the likelihood of sex between Ichigo and Rukia, her mind began whirling with possibilities. Even talking about sex between two other people increased the chances that he might think about her in a romantic way. She's noticed that the wine had made his pupils expand and he'd gazed at her mouth as she licked her lip. While her mind was hazy from the drink, she knew if she managed the situation she might be able to commence something with the man she adored. All she needed was for him to kiss her and then she would know. She wished he'd kiss her.

***************************************************************

Satisfied by his decision he noticed how much attention the girl was paying him. It was flattering, if slightly worrying that she never took her gaze from him. She wasn't exactly staring, but her eyes were constantly searching his face, glancing at his hands, moving over his chest. Some of the looks made him feel exposed, but the admiration he saw in her eyes disarmed him.

“It's difficult having to hold up the honour of a noble house, Captain Kuchiki” she remarked as if she had some understanding.

Hearing her refer to him by his title warmed him, but in this instance he decided to permit her a very great honour. “Tonight, you may call me Byakuya,” he offered generously with a heavy emphasis on the `Tonight'.

Kiyone lowered her eyes, obviously sensible of the favour he was bestowing upon her. “Thank you, Captain. I mean Byakuya,” she said quietly.

“Very few people understand the restrictions one must face to honour the family name. I do not expect you to understand,” he replied. The plum wine soothed his tongue after the rough alcohol of the sake. He usually kept that for his less cultured guests and didn't imbibe anything except the finer wines. Tonight's experience had shaken him, but he was no longer bored.

“Of course I understand,” she said with complete assurance. “I know exactly what it's like.”

Did that mean that the Kotetsu's were related to nobility? From the way she spoke it seemed that she was implying that and his interest in her increased slightly. It would be impolite to question her further and he had not been aware of this part of her ancestry, but under the influence of this disclosure she appeared more attractive. He poured them an additional cup of wine and wondered if he should return the discussion to Rukia. His inclination was to leave the topic and return to general conversation.

Instead he leant across and kissed her.

It was because of a sudden impulse which he immediately regretted until she returned his kiss and then he forgot regret, forgot dignity and forgot honour as the blood pumped fiercely through his veins reminding him that he was a man who had denied his lusts for too long.

As quickly as he had initiated the kiss, he pulled back from it. There was something unexpected in his reaction. Except for his brief aberration when Hisana was in his life, he'd never experienced these urges so profoundly. The woman was not that attractive and he wasn't inebriated enough to lose his sense of what was right. Admittedly the atmosphere in Zaraki's quarters had turned him mind toward sex, but those impulses were normally only impulses; he was not inspired to act as a result. Before he could say anything or excuse his actions, Kiyone was clinging to his neck and kissing him once more. At first he tried to break the kiss, but a small mean voice in his head spoke.

“Why not?”

“Why not,” he agreed. He'd forgone so many pleasures, crushing his desires beneath the weight of duty, responsibility, family honour and nobility. Every so often he wondered how he continued to breathe with all these notions constricting his life and his chest.

Drawing his head back he said to her clearly, “This will be the only time. I have my position to consider and until this war is over I cannot become entangled with any person. I do not wish to hurt you or take advantage of you in any manner. Do you understand and accept these prohibitions.”

He thought she understood, although her eyes seemed unfocused and she was gazing hungrily at his mouth. She didn't respond so he asked her again in more simple words, “Do you understand?”

Kiyone nodded and a wave of relieved lust rolled through him. Ever since he'd drunk the tea in the afternoon his passions had been gradually rising and becoming more urgent with each moment that passed. Now he had the opportunity of indulging in some of the pleasures he'd denied for so long with a willing and compliant partner. Best of all she appeared to agree that this was not anything more than a diversion for them both.

“Byakuya, I am yours,” the girl breathed.

“But only for tonight,” he said, disturbed slightly by the comment.

“For tonight,” she agreed. “For tonight,” she repeated and again kissed him.

***********************************************************************

He'd kissed her; his mouth descending on her own, hot, sweet and tasting of plum wine. Freezing at the initial contact she waited until she was assured that he was really kissing her and then eagerly responded. She hadn't embarrassed herself by acting in her usual manner.

Instead of pulling away as soon as their lips touched he kissed her properly and her heart thumped uncontrollably. Those nights spent imagining this moment had not been wasted because anything was better than her normal mundane thoughts. Any time spent contemplating the activities in which she participated every day was wasted if she could be indulging in thinking about the man who had stopped kissing her and was looking at her in expectation. Maybe he wanted her to prove she wasn't upset by the kiss. Quickly she placed her arms around his neck as she had imagined so many times and kissed him, eagerly pressing her lips against his. Briefly she was disappointed that he did not embrace her in return, and for a moment she feared he would end the kiss as her tongue slid slowly into his mouth. Instead he returned her kiss, at first with little apparent interest and then with more passion.

Passion! She had roused something in him more than polite interest. The wine and excitement made her feel dizzy, or maybe it was his lips, the touch of his skin against hers. As she tried to steady her breathing she noticed the contact between their lips was changing, becoming infused with more desire than interest.

Distressingly he stopped kissing her and said something. Focused as she was on his mouth, dazed by the alcohol she'd consumed which seemed to cause a buzzing in her ears and painfully experiencing the tentative hope of love returned she missed what he said. While she could see his lips moving it was difficult to snap her attention back even though she would treasure any words uttered by his tantalising mouth. She unobtrusively popped her ears in order that no more of his sentiments would escape her hearing.

“Do you understand?” he asked. From the way he said the words it was something important. For a second she considered asking him to repeat the question but decided that it would appear rude and he would know she hadn't been listening. Instead of answering she nodded, hoping that would suffice. If it was important she would find out later. What she needed to do now was kiss this man again, while convincing herself it wasn't a dream.

She found she was uttering the words she had imagined saying to him in all her wild reveries. “Byakuya, I am yours.”

For some reason he stilled and said, “For tonight.”

Even though she knew that she'd missed something very important she decided to agree. It was possible he was had asked if she would be his tonight. How could she say no? “For tonight.” He seemed pleased at her answer so she repeated it. “For tonight.”

“For forever,” she told herself as she kissed him and felt his body relax at her words. Now she could feel his erection straining against her and experienced his heat and urgency. Could this man, who seemed consumed by normal passion, be the man she had admired for his apparent disinterest in anything but duty? Under the surface he was as passionate as any of her former lovers, perhaps even more fervid.

**********************************************************************

Gratified at her acceptance of his conditions he let some of his normal reserve slide. His body seemed finally alive and willing to consummate this unexpected passion. Regrets might occur on the following day; when did they not? For now he didn't want to behave like Captain Byakuya Kuchiki. Desperately he sought to become the man he had been with Hisana. One who could take joy in physical pleasure, in the scent and feel of a woman beneath him, on top of him, around him, welcoming him into her soft heated body with cries of passion and delight.

He was torn between closing his eyes and pretending it was Hisana who was fervently returning his kisses, or trying to please the woman he was with. It would be impossible to recapture the experiences he'd shared with his wife and Kiyone would probably have different requirements, but the idea was not easily dislodged.

Her hands were moving over his clothes, trying to remove them while her mouth was fixed on his own. They were not teenagers. Deliberately he moved away from the kiss and commenced removing his coat and other items. If she wanted to feel his skin against her own, which she was muttering something about, then so be it.

Instead of following his lead she watched him, her eyes gleaming with interest. Becoming self conscious he stopped, wearing only his hakama and commented, “You might wish to undress also.”

The words seemed to cause her some confusion but she immediately began to divest her body of the material that obscured her figure, leaving them where they fell. As he has suspected she was slight in build and her flesh was white and smooth. She was not Hisana. Her curves did not match those he remembered, the way she moved did not have the same confident grace he had seen in his wife.

“She is here. Hisana is not.” The mental reprimand was a reminder of how life continued even when he'd wished it to end. “She is offering you a precious gift and you should accept it graciously and gratefully.”

Before he finished stripping, he laid out the sleeping mat he kept in the office for the nights he wanted to taste simplicity and peace away from the demands of the servants. Kiyone watched, not offering to help and that was another noticeable difference from Hisana. Even as she continued to undress she did not remove her eyes from him. Feeling rather self conscious he removed his final garments, forcing his hands to fold them neatly and place them on his desk. He really wanted to rush things but did not wish to give into every urge like a commoner.

With everything prepared he didn't know which action to take. Should he embrace her? Lie down and wait for her to join him? Before he could determine his next move the woman hurtled toward him, almost forcing him to fall from the exuberance of her embrace. Deciding to use the movement he permitted his knees to bend and drew Kiyone onto the mat. The pretence of waiting was over.

“Oh, Byakuya!” She was kissing him on his cheeks, his forehead. “Your noble brow,” she said. Her hands were not still, touching him here, caressing him there, stroking his thigh, smoothing over the skin on the inside of his arms. “This is bliss.”

Hearing that word reminded him immediately of Hisana. He'd always believed that there was no heaven except within her company and this girl was no substitute. Suddenly her flesh seemed rough and coarse, her lips hard and demanding, her hands urgent and crude. How had he permitted this situation to develop? In a clear moment of insight he despised his lower instincts. Then her breath skimmed across his collarbone as she finally touched his penis. All his other thoughts disappeared but he retained enough sanity to ask, “Do I need to use anything? Do we need to take precautions?”

Emphatically Kiyone shook her head. “No. I want to feel you. My sister knows all about these things.”

Trying to work out if that was an assurance that there wouldn't be any repercussions from this interlude was too difficult to manage. The firmly maintained hold he had on his urges was slipping and once more he felt the relief of permitting his reason to be overwhelmed by simple lust.

Before he could question any further he found he was lying on his back while Kiyone lapped at his body, touching him, using techniques he had not experienced before. His eyes widened and then drifted shut as pleasure overwhelmed him. He didn't protest as he was manoeuvred onto his back.

“What are you doing?” he asked not certain if he wanted to hear the answer.

“You don't have to do anything…. Byakuya,” the girl said. “I am here for you,” and she paused before adding, “tonight.”

“Tonight,” he agreed, pleased that she understood the constraints of the relationship. Tonight he would ignore everything, forego every restriction he had placed on himself and he would forget Hisana. He could no longer live his life solely for her. Duty and honour only sufficed for so much. The memory of a lost love did not fulfil the immediate need. He still loved Hisana, he would always love the dream of perfection the slept within her, but he was still alive and she was not.

The woman clambered astride him and stared down intently into his face. “Do you want me, Byakuya?”

His first impulse was to answer in the negative. `Want' was not how he felt. He neither wanted nor needed this woman, he simply desired her. It still seemed odd that he could desire a woman who had none of the characteristics he preferred. Again he felt like stopping events before they proceeded any further and instructed Kiyone to forget anything ever happened, but the sensations he was experiencing also indicated he would be distinctly unhappy with that outcome. Though it would only be passing, his interest was focused on this woman and he wanted to experience what it would be like to have sex with her.

He heard her give a breathy giggle as she stood up and went over to where he left his clothes. Wondering what she had in mind he rested on his elbow and watched her. She picked up his scarf and moved back to him.

“Which would you prefer,” she asked coquettishly and he simply raised his eyebrows in answer.

“Would you like me to blindfold you or tie your wrists together?”

His eyes widening at shock from what she proposed he found he was both revolted and intrigued by the suggestion. It would be beneath the dignity of a Kuchiki to permit a female to bind or blind them, but one part of his mind wondered what it would be like to permit a woman to direct the sex. For once permitting another person to direct how the action would take place. He didn't want the scarf tied around his eyes because he felt that Kiyone could be quite inventive and that might prove interesting visual stimulation to couple with the physical sensations.

“Neither,” he said, the shock evident in his voice. He didn't want that. Surrendering control to another was unthinkable! Despite his denial he was drawn to permit her this privilege.

She pouted slightly and wound the scarf around her thighs. “It'll be fun,” she promised. “I won't tie them too tightly. It's only pretend. Let me be your fantasy.”

This woman could never be his fantasy, unless she changed into Hisana, but what she was offering had crossed the deepest recesses of his mind as something he could never permit to happen no matter how much the idea appealed. Again he was tempted by the idea. Frowning he stared at the scarf and found the way she had placed it both concealed and drew attention to her sex. He felt his penis throb and swell slightly at the sight. “My wrists,” he said, his aversion overcome by the strange mixture of emotions coursing through him. Was he losing his way? The things he was permitting on this night were out of his normal set of accepted behaviours and he didn't like it. Too many of the things were driven by simple impulse instead of the careful consideration he applied to any important event.

Kiyone smiled with satisfaction and deftly raised his arms over his head and tied his wrists together with the scarf. Before he has a chance to test the binding, her hands were in his hair, removing the hair clamps which she tossed aside with little respect. He was about to protest when he found she'd buried her face and hands in his hair, stroking, kissing, and murmuring words of admiration. Shutting his eyes the better to feel the sensations the girl was eliciting, his thoughts once more returned to his wife.

Hisana had done that and he had gloried in her attentions. Though he would never admit it, he liked it when women touched and played with his hair. Especially when they touched it with the mixture of reverence and pleasure that the girl was displaying. Never had he been tempted to wear it short as he liked the way the wind would swirl it around his head, the soft strands brushing his cheeks in the teasing manner Hisana used.

No person could ever take her place. Not this woman who seemed to delight in touching him, not Rukia. Again he felt a compulsion to push Kiyone away but the moment was lost, his freedom to react in his normal dismissive manner had been removed.

The girl sat up suddenly and then pushed a few strands of hair off her forehead. Here eyes slid over his body quickly followed by her hands as she brushed over the skin of his chest. Her fingers traced over his lips and he lay passively, wondering what the girl would do next.

He started as her hands grasped him, gently rubbing his penis between her palms as her eyes remained fixed on the area she was stimulating. Like Hisana the hands were warm and urgent, but her hands had more calluses and provided more friction as she stimulated him.

“Enough.” The word sounded like an order but he did not want to simply spill his seed. He wanted to experience the full pleasure of intercourse with a willing partner.

“Enough? It's not enough for me,” Kiyone said plaintively and then giggled. “Unless you mean you want to make love.”

The use of the word in this situation, in this context was wrong. What they were doing was indulging their carnal passions and love had no place in the room. Yet, perhaps the girl was simply trying to refer to the inevitable sex within a more romantic frame, but all the same it was wrong. He was nearly ready to contradict her when she knelt above him and positioned his penis at her opening. Despite all his efforts to remain aloof, his hips thrust upwards, trying to gain entrance.

A throaty chuckle indicated that Kiyone had noticed. “Fast or slow?” she said musingly as she slowly took more of him within her.

This was improper. He should be the one to set the pace and regulate how long it would last. Why had he permitted her to do this? The scarf that was bound around his wrists did not immediately come undone when he tried to pull them apart. Disbelievingly he tried again, to find that the material held.

If he wished to exert his strength he would be able to release his hands, at the expense of the scarf. Now he experienced a dilemma. He couldn't do that, but he couldn't let the girl take the dominant role.

“Untie me,” he ordered in his most commanding tone. It was difficult to summon that voice as Kiyone was slowly falling and rising on his penis, his full length not yet inside her. By looking at her face he found it easier to focus as her face roused no familiar longing within his heart.

Kiyone stopped and looked down at him, her eyes half closed. “I don't want to untie you.” Her voice was determined and she began her slow and teasing motions once more.

“I order you to untie me!” An imperfect fear began to form under his breastbone. He couldn't recall how the events had led him to this time and this situation.

“Captain, Byakuya. This was your idea,” the woman sounded plaintive.

Her recollection of events was faulty. She had suggested it, he had thoughtlessly agreed, unaware of the full meaning. “If you do not release me from these bindings it will not end well.” His voice was sharp with rage.

The girl started in shock, her sex releasing his penis as she clambered off him and her hands immediately went to the scarf which she began to untie. He looked up, watching and waiting impatiently to be free. A drop of moisture fell on his face and on transferring his gaze he noticed the tears were trickling down Kiyone's face. His wrists released, his anger evaporated and he experienced the memory of Hisana crying; crying over her evil nature. She had been so good, so kind and compassionate and yet she judged herself so harshly for one action she was forced to take.

The love he'd felt for his wife surged back, stronger for being suppressed and he found he was hugging Kiyone close, patting her gently on the back, murmuring gently to her as he once had to his wife. It lasted for the space of a few breaths before he recognised that the woman he held was not his love. Kiyone had thrown her arms around him and was hugging him tightly, sobs wracking her body. He tried to pull back, only to feel her hold him closer.

“Forgive me,” the girl said. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. Please, can we start again?”

The last thing on his mind now was sex. He wanted to return to the shrine of his wife where he had spent so many hours in contemplation and peace. There was no point in remaining here but he was unsure how to depart without causing further problems.

Kiyone pressed herself against him, her lips seeking his mouth. Again he tried to pull back as another unmistakeable surge of lust surged through him.

“Why do I care if she is Hisana? She is a warm and willing body who will provide me with some gratification.” With little passion, but some desire he returned her kiss.

******************************************************************

Moment by moment she found it difficult to grasp that this was happening. Byakuya seemed eager to have sex with her, or so her instincts told her.

She had noticed that he pulled back a few times and on one or two occasions a frown had creased his brow. Even though he frowned, he said nothing and she tried to change a little, striving to estimate what he might like.

He had kissed her first. He'd asked to undress. He'd removed his own clothes. All that indicated that he was interested in having sex, but she'd noticed that his reactions were not what she expected. After she'd removed her clothes and embraced him, she was certain he'd tensed for a few milliseconds and she'd wondered why, but then dismissed the notion. His body was so well formed, muscled in the right places and firm. His skin was smooth and heated when she touched him with those hands that had learnt to please men. If she touched him the right way, maybe he would come to long for her and welcome her within his home.

A small voice in her mind informed her that she was hoping and this hope would never be realised, but as usual she didn't listen. Reality never lived up to her expectations. Reality was like a darkness that crept into the corners of her life and affected her dreams.

When he'd asked the question about taking precautions, she didn't want to even contemplate the possibility of protected sex. After yearning for the man as long as she had, she didn't wish for any barrier between them. Until now she had been careful in her encounters, mainly because Isane nagged her about retaining some sense in her life. But Byakuya was different. The worst thing she could catch from him would be a slight case of pregnancy and that seemed to be a slim possibility. Why would she fall pregnant today? It was so unlikely as not to matter. The answer she provided was not an answer to the question and she held her breath awaiting further questions which were not forthcoming.

Despite the strong emotions she was experiencing, she was trying to carefully judge his reactions to what she was doing and saying. Of course she made a few mistakes, would it be possible to meet his high standards without any error? If only she'd had time to prepare… she would never have spoken to him. If she been sober her response to seeing him would be to bow politely and move on.

Now they were here and she felt so clumsy and incapable of moving smoothly and with the grace she knew he expected. To cover up her gauche movements she acted quickly and did things that she'd thought about, but never felt brave enough.

The earlier wine had affected her thinking and the plum wine seemed to be affecting her even more, because it had to be the wine. It couldn't be anything else.

Once she had Byakuya on his back, underneath her she had an enticing thought. The man was so tightly bound; perhaps he would like to experience the feeling of being physically constrained. When she'd suggested tying his wrists she'd noticed the gleam of interest in his eyes. She hadn't mistaken that, had she? He'd quickly agreed thought his voice had sounded different and she could not read the expression on his face. It was carefully blank and that made her wonder about what he was thinking. Unintentionally she made the knots tighter than she had originally planned.

Now he could not prevent her she finally removed his hair clips and immersed her face in his hair. The feel of it against her face was even more exciting than she imagined. It slipped through her fingers like a strong, but smooth liquid and the scent of it made her long to kiss and taste it. Reluctantly she decided that she could not spend more time glorying in how the tresses felt against her face and hands. She thought she'd heard him hiss a word through his teeth when she began, but she didn't recognise it immediately.

She couldn't wait any longer. She wanted to touch him, all of him. Most of all, she wanted to see what his reaction would be when she touched him. As her hands smoothed over his chest she could see his reaction. Giving into her desire she touched his cock and was rewarded by an instant and obvious reaction. Encouraged by the evident pleasure she was providing, she continued.

“Enough.”

The unexpected exclamation made her stop and she stared at Byakuya wondering what she had done wrong. Wishing to hide her reaction she replied, “Enough? It's not enough for me.” She tried a giggle and it came out normally. Greatly daring she added, “Unless you mean you want to make love.”

His reaction proved she had said the wrong thing. She was uncertain how to phrase what they were doing, but she knew she would be making love to the man she adored. It was evident that he didn't feel the same, but she hadn't expected for this man to love her immediately. Her love was enough, for now. Fearing that the moment would be lost she straddled him and with an equal amount of fear and desire, began to ease him inside her. With delight she noticed that he arched his back and tried to thrust into her more fully, but while she liked the notion, she wanted to remember every moment. Most of all, she wanted this to last.

She laughed unable to hide her pleasure at his obvious need. “Fast or slow?” she said musingly as she slowly took more of him within her. Closing her eyes she savoured every slow gain and wanted it to last but she felt him shifting beneath her.

“Untie me!” The words were harsh and broke the fragile dream in which she was indulging.

Hoping he didn't mean it she replied, “I don't want to untie you.” .

“I order you to untie me!”

There was no way to deny that he was beginning to tense under her and he no longer seemed to desire her. Everything was going wrong. “Captain, Byakuya. This was your idea.”

Anger suffused his voice “If you do not release me from these bindings it will not end well.”

The man she loved was threatening her and this knowledge made her eyes flood with tears. Shock coursed through her and she clambered off him quickly and reluctantly. Untying the knot took more time because she was blinking against the moisture in her eyes. A tear fell before she could wipe it away and once he was free she waited for Byakuya to demand her departure.

The words were not uttered. Instead she found she was held tightly within the Captain's arms while he murmured soothing words about finding her sister. She wondered why he was talking about Isane, but it didn't matter. This was a genuine sign of affection and she wanted it to continue. To display her gratitude she hugged him in return while she continued to cry. The source of her tears was now uncertain. The movement of his muscles under her hands indicated he was trying to pull back and she clung tighter.

“Forgive me,” she said, once more greatly fearing that this was soon to be over. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. Please, can we start again?” She kissed him and to reinforce the idea she pressed her body against his, trying to elicit a response.

Again she felt his muscles tense, but then he returned her kiss.

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He wanted this over. He wanted the sex, but he wanted to indulge and be free of her. As they kissed he eased her on her back. She seemed to understand and she parted her thighs. As he entered her, he heard her sigh deeply and looking down he noticed her expression was one of joy and lust. This time it was her hips that thrust up to meet his.

Having sex with Kiyone was very different to making love with Hisana. Kiyone appeared to have more experience with the mechanics of sex and it was easy to surrender to the pure enjoyment that his body was experiencing. She was tight enough and very slick and so enthusiastic. Closing his eyes he tried to pretend that it was his wife who was fondling his back and squirming delightfully under him.

“Oh, Byakuya. You feel so good inside me.”

The words broke the illusion and while the words were encouraging, he found they were also worrying. It wasn't only the words that led to this feeling; the emotion lacing the words strengthened the effect. The feeling that he was making a mistake surfaced but he didn't wish to stop. He thrust into her again while her body met his. If he hadn't been enjoying the sensations he would have wondered why their bodies seemed so coordinated. She wrapped her legs around his thighs and tried to prevent him moving.

“I want to feel you fully inside me,” she said.

Not wishing to appear ungracious, he pushed inside. Kiyone sighed again and kissed him deeply. Taking this as a sign he could continue, he did so, wondering if he should ensure that she came before he did. His concern proved to be futile very soon.

“I'm coming,” the girl announced with a tone of surprise in her voice.

As she came she squealed. He tried to block out the noise in order to concentrate but found the action of her orgasm brought him very close to the edge. One final thrust and his seed was released.

After his long denial he came copiously. Feeling the semen spurt from him, he recognised that his abstinence had been foolish. Eschewing sex was not out of reverence for his wife, but a method by which he could maintain his distance from people. By not indulging his carnal desires he could pretend he was more aesthetic than those who indulged freely.

While he was grateful to Kiyone, he knew that this experience could not be repeated. His family had urged him to remarry and he would now permit them to present the list of candidates to him. He was confident that one of the females would be acceptable and given time he might care for her.

Kiyone was kissing him ardently but he wanted to end this interlude. Gently he escaped her embrace and commenced donning his clothes. “I will walk you home,” he offered, trying to indicate that their tryst was over. Even though he wasn't looking at her, he saw the disappointment spread over her face.

“I have to be present with the other Captains to farewell the Hitsugaya team tomorrow morning. I need to sleep,” he explained all the time resenting the need.

She nodded and dressed quickly.

Replacing his mattress, he tidied the office efficiently while the woman watched. He escorted her back to her quarters in relative silence and bore her farewell kisses with little enjoyment.

“Thank you Captain Kuchiki,” she breathed as she entered the door. She looked at him longingly before she shut the door behind her.

Walking back to his home he wondered about the events. They didn't seem to make sense. He had permitted his base urges to control him and he'd had unprotected sex with a woman he hardly knew. He'd enjoyed it, yes, but he couldn't understand his motivation. There was an influence that he hadn't previously noted and it would require further investigation.

He reached the entrance to his home and then paused, thunderstruck by one thing he hadn't really considered until now. Kiyone had dismissed his question about the possibility of becoming pregnant. Her assurance that her sister knew about such matters didn't mean anything. She had not actually stated that she took precautions and he had been too overcome by lust to take any. It was not like him to take chances.

With growing horror he recognised that the pleasure might come at a high cost. Summoning his major domo he instructed that a retainer follow the girl at all times. If he was to be identified as a father, he wanted some assurance that he was in fact the father.

Remembering some of her actions, words and expressions another concern presented itself for his analysis. Released from the cloud of lust that had fogged his vision, he thought he'd detected something more than sated lust in her face when she said goodbye. If she was in love with him, he feared he consequences.

How could she love him? She barely knew him. She might have formed some feeble infatuation for him, but that would pass. Yet if she was pregnant it would make matters even more difficult if she had formed some ill conceived passion for him. A roiling feeling in his stomach made his face turn alternatively hot and then cold. He did not wish to father a child on the girl.

Trying to calm his fears he once more remembered her words. There was no assurance to be gained from them.

“It was only one time. It is rare that a pregnancy occurs from one act of intercourse.” While it was true, he felt a lack of conviction in the logic he was using.

Could he place any faith in Kiyone?

****************************************************************

Emotions tore at her as they walked back to her quarters. Byakuya had enjoyed the sex, but as soon as it was over he had once more become distant. He had returned her kiss but the speed with which he escaped her embrace was hurtful. Admittedly he acted with grace. It had been a disappointment to watch him shroud his divine form with clothing but the downturn of his mouth indicated dissatisfaction and that concerned her.

She had not hoped for love, well, she had, but she was not blind to the reality. An insidious hope had formed that he would at least ask her to be his mistress, but that was unlikely. Her few attempts at conversation met with short responses.

On reaching the door she kissed him, wishing he would request to escort her inside yet he stubbornly refused to fulfil her fantasy. As she thanked him she looked at him imploringly but he did not meet her eyes.

Refusing to wash the touch of his body from hers she went directly to bed and relived every moment of her time with the man she loved. On a few occasions she had sensed that he was not as enthusiastic as she was and that confused her.

A small irritation niggled at the back of her consciousness. As she often did, she ignored it. She had made love with Captain Kuchiki!

Her elation was quickly followed by despondency. The aftermath of the sex was not romantic nor did it imply the possibility of any future encounters. Her hands covered her eyes as she acknowledged that she had once more made a mistake, and one that she could not ignore.

“How will Isane react if she hears about this?” was her final thought before the wine and weariness lulled her to a nightmare ridden sleep.

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A.N.

As promised another in the series of off-shoot one shots from the Different Circumstances/For the Love of a Friend AU. The others will be posted when they're written.

Do not expect another chapter for this couple.

Soundtrack

The title of this story was taken from `Azura' by 808 State. There are a few altered quotes from the song scattered through the story. The other two off shoot stories have also been taken from songs by 808 State. Yes, Bastion. I took your suggestions and then used them for my own ends.

`Love Fool' The Cardigans
`My Mistake' Split Endz
`Pedestal' Portishead
`Baditude' Spoon, Harris & Obernik
`Principles of Lust: Sadeness' Enigma
`Don't Need You' Ek
`Azura' 808 State
`My Sharona' The Knack (Don't ask.)
`What Have I Done?' DJ Shadow

Review. Reviews sometimes amuse.