Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Of Violence ❯ Chapter 8: Of Recovery (Part Two) ( Chapter 9 )

Of Violence

Chapter Eight (Part Two): Of Recovery

 

It was night time in the Kurosaki household. Perhaps the only instance throughout the day when it was entirely still and quiet, most of the residents settling into sleep. Yuzu had already taken the twins back to the house she and Hanatarou shared with Karin next door, telling her brother not to worry and that they would be just fine.

 

Kaien and Syaoran were asleep in Yuzu and Karin's old room, which the boy had not been happy about. He was too old for sharing a room with his sister, or so he had claimed. His father had simply told him to suck it up. That had been the end of that. Pouting to rival Isshin's had quickly followed but had been readily ignored.

 

Karin had also headed home, claiming a need for rest. Though undoubtedly she would be up half the night, patrolling Karakura in her Shinigami form. She had taken after her brother in more ways than one, even donning the mantle of substitute Shinigami. Another effect of the war. She was strong. And Byakuya surmised that by the time she entered Soul Society, she would probably be as powerful as a vice-captain, if not a captain.

 

With no more need to pretend, Byakuya had quickly shed his gigai, glad to be rid of the thing. He already had plans to spend as much time out of it as possible. He breathed a sigh of relief once he was free, hand momentarily resting on Senbonzakura as if to remind himself of her presence. Leaving the gigai propped up in Ichigo's old room, he took to wandering the house.

 

It was a lot like walking through Ichigo's past, if he thought about it. Not much had changed in the last several decades, or so Ichigo had explained. Everything was pretty much in the same set-up, and though Byakuya had been to the house for family dinners, he had never stayed for an extended time. And never for the night.

 

Honestly, he hadn't taken a vacation in the past… Well, it was nearly a century now that he thought about it. Ever since Hisana…

 

Byakuya firmly drove that particular memory from his mind, resolving to not return to old sorrows while he was supposed to be vacationing. He stepped down the stairs, wincing when they creaked beneath his feet. He spied a few pictures on the wall and hesitated mid-way down the short flight.

 

One was a large family portrait, taken before Masaki's death. Karin and Yuzu were just infants, much like Mikan and Ryuu. Young Ichigo was clutching onto his mother's side, looking adoringly up at her. Isshin was giving the camera a goofy grin, posed as if he had been in the midst of running back from setting up the camera and had to abruptly turn to catch the picture. It looked happy.

 

He moved on to the next. Various family photos seemed to be the standard here. Yuzu and Karin together in their school uniforms. Ichigo's mother holding the newly born twins. A wedding photo of Isshin and his wife. Ichigo and his mother baking together, bits of flour dusting the young boy's face.

 

But he was smiling.

 

Byakuya noticed that first and foremost. Young Ichigo smiled every time he was shown with his mother. He was cute; he looked a lot like Kaien. Father and son resembled each other more than they realized.

 

He thought of his own house, the perfectly posed portraits that had been made of he and his parents. One sat in the main room, framed and carefully placed. He knew there was probably another in the main complex. They were in their finest dress, elegant backdrop, faces pulled prim and graceful. No one was smiling. It was nothing like this.

 

Shaking his head before he became trapped in unwelcome nostalgia, Byakuya continued down the stairs. He passed an empty kitchen, a few dishes still stacked in the sink and waiting to be cleaned. The sound of voices drew his attention towards the living room, and he paused in the doorway, glancing in.

 

Isshin and Ichigo appeared to be having a serious discussion. They were standing next to one another by the door to the backyard, Ichigo posed with his hands in his pockets as Byakuya had already seen from a few of his pictures scattered throughout the house. He imagined that perpetual scowl was in place.

 

This was something he should not interrupt. Isshin, in a serious mode, was a thing never to be disturbed. Besides, Ichigo rarely had the opportunity to truly speak with his father. It just highlighted how much their behavior earlier was just play. Ichigo did love his father, even if his words sounded otherwise.

 

Their voices were low murmurs, really just enough to attract his attention but not to bring any clarity, which was fine. Byakuya had no intention to eavesdrop. He turned and left them to their business, stepping down the hallway. He phased through the front door, something he wasn't that fond of doing and flitted up to the roof.

 

Karakura was quiet and still at night, very close to perfectly peaceful. Byakuya lowered himself to the roof and slowly expanded his reiatsu, checking the vicinity. No Hollow were anywhere nearby, and he relaxed slightly. Kaien would be a tasty snack for any wandering Minus, as would most of Ichigo's children and the rest Kurosaki clan itself. It never paid to be too careful.

 

The setting of the sun brought relief to the wet heat of the day. A fresh, cool wind was blowing in as Byakuya sat on the roof, more or less meditating.

 

When Isshin joined him some twenty minutes later, Byakuya already knew that he was coming. He could tell from reiatsu alone that Ichigo had likely already headed off to bed. But the Kurosaki elder had deviated, climbing up onto the roof.

 

“I'm sorry you were dragged into all of this,” the former captain said quietly as he started towards his guest. “Between your sister and your best friend.”

 

It wasn't really the sort of comment that Byakuya could readily form a response to. He kept silent, merely listening. He had learned that oftentimes, given enough silence, a Kurosaki would speak on his or her own. Prompting only led to closed mouths.

 

“It's not going to end well, you know,” Isshin continued, his soft footfalls coming to a halt right next to Byakuya. He did not sit, however, tilting his head to look up at the clear night sky. “These things never do.”

 

Grey eyes flickered over the silent and still homes around them. “And what do you know of such things?”

 

“More than you think, Byakuya-bo. I got a very interesting note yesterday from my ojii-san.” Isshin's hand settled in his pockets, a stance so similar to Ichigo's.

 

Byakuya blinked.

 

His ojii-san?

 

Ah, dammit. That had never occurred to him. He hadn't expected Yamamoto would say anything. He supposed that meant Isshin had only been playing the fool.

 

“And what did it say?” the Kuchiki heir asked warily, though he suspected Isshin would have continued regardless of his interest or not.

 

The older man exhaled faintly. “Just a warning about a certain rumor circulating in Seireitei. One that Ichigo has now confirmed.”

 

He had figured as much. Which meant that Yuzu was perhaps the only one in the core family group unaware of the entire situation. Byakuya was certain that Urahara with his infinite information network knew as well.

 

“I haven't seen him like this in a long time. So lost,” Isshin went on, voice turning wistful. “Not since his mother died. He blamed himself for that, too. He used to be a lot like Ryuu and Yuzu.”

 

Despite himself, interest perked in the sixth-division captain. “Oh?”

 

In his mind, he was trying to picture an Ichigo who was more outgoing and kind, infinitely patient. He recalled the photos on the wall, the smiling Ichigo with his mother. It both fit him and did not. Byakuya said as much.

 

“I'm not sure that would be an improvement,” he remarked. “I think he's fine the way he is.”

 

Isshin tipped his head, turning to glance down at Byakuya. “I'm sure you do.” He chuckled.

 

Stiffening, Byakuya was treated to a brief flashback of his conversation with Zaraki. He quickly replayed what he had just said in his head and how it could have been construed, paling and inwardly cursing. Those types of things were emerging without his consent, slipping so easily into his conversations that it was a wonder he hadn't noticed before.

 

`But he loves you more,' that damned Zaraki voice repeated in his head, mocking him for his denial.

 

He bit back an outward growl of irritation. Damn Kenpachi. He was going to pay for putting such foolish ideas into an otherwise rational thought process.

 

“And I know that no matter how this ends, he'll be okay. You'll be there for him.”

 

Byakuya blinked, stunned by the sudden shift in the conversation. He frowned.

 

“What? I--”

 

“Soooo cute! My two sons!” Isshin abruptly cried, cutting him off in an instant. The man threw his arms wide, a Cheshire grin splitting his face. “Helping each other out in their moment of need.”

 

Sensing his impending attack, Byakuya moved from sitting to standing in less than a millisecond. Just as Isshin lunged to inflict a forceful embrace, the Kuchiki heir ever-so-calmly flitted out of his way; Isshin missed by a long mile. Unable to stop his forward motion, the former captain stumbled and tumbled directly off the roof. A muffled thump quickly followed.

 

Mildly concerned, Byakuya stepped to the edge and glanced down. Isshin had landed on his head, so there was no need to be worried. And no one else seemed especially troubled since there had been no response to the noise.

 

Assuming that Isshin would be fine, he turned away and headed back inside, ignoring the man's faint twitching. He was a former Shinigami, after all. It would take much more than a fall from a roof to kill him.

 

Byakuya made his way to Ichigo's old room, graciously given since he was technically a guest. Ichigo had taken the couch downstairs. The sight of the Quincy bedspread was the first thing to greet him, unchanged since Ichigo had left all those years ago. Or so had been explained to him.

 

He removed Senbonzakura, leaning her against the wall within easy reach, and lowered himself into the bed. It was different than a futon on the ground. Not necessarily unpleasant, just different. And it still smelled of Ichigo, a faint scent of thyme and nutmeg that Byakuya had long learned to associate with the younger man.

 

Sinking into the mattress, he turned his head, eyes falling on Ichigo's closet. One of the doors was partially open, giving a glimpse of darkness within. He couldn't help but try to imagine what it had been like back then. When Rukia had been in the living world, spending her days in Ichigo's closet, stealing his sister's clothes.

 

Long before the war. Long before Aizen's betrayal. Long before Byakuya had been sent to Karakura to retrieve his wayward sister and kill the human who had taken her powers. Back to when Ichigo had just been a boy who wanted to save his family, doing what was necessary.

 

From then on, his fate had been sealed.

 

Byakuya wondered how Ichigo's life would have different if Rukia had never stumbled upon him that day. What other Shinigami might have learned of his existence, his spiritual power too much to be ignored. Would he have been saved the pain he experienced now. Or was Fate not that generous?

 

It had begun as a friendship borne nearly from necessity. He had broken into Seireitei to save her, returning a favor. Fighting against all odds. Determination. Something Byakuya didn't really know for himself. When had he ever really been determined to do anything?

Yes, taking down Aizen had required a fair amount of resolve. But that was more circumstance than making the conscious decision to do something rather than nothing.

 

In a way, Ichigo was rather… admirable, even to a man such as Byakuya. And that thought circulated in his mind for the rest of the night.

 

*****

 

Their shared holiday seemed to pass all too quietly, the days flitting quickly by. Ichigo spent a lot of his time with his family, catching them up on the events in Seireitei and generally being around them. The children were happy to see their aunts and Goat-Face as well, even consenting to spend some time with their foolish grandfather.

 

Byakuya was usually found trailing along at some distance, holding one twin or the other. Sometimes, he was with the children while Ichigo caught up with friends. Other times, he managed to find moments to himself. It was then that he would drop his gigai and wander around Karakura, dispatching any random Hollow he might run into. Even after nearly a week, he still couldn't get used to the false body.

 

But mostly, Byakuya was with Ichigo, observing him with his family or friends. Seeing the Ichigo that not many in Seireitei were privy to. It was a reminder that Ichigo hadn't been through Soul Society, that he was once a member of the living world until he had chosen to leave that life behind. Byakuya supposed that it wouldn't have been that easy to return to being a simple human after the war with Aizen.

 

While Ichigo wandered around, Byakuya had the chance to meet the famed Keigo, a rather spastic individual whose voice reminded him of Hisagi Shuuhei. Keigo was an interesting mix of Isshin and Matsumoto. Or perhaps Shunsui when he was on a Jyuushiro hunt, his voice echoing throughout the many divisions.

 

Energetic and loud with a tendency towards random outbursts, Byakuya could see how the man had made his life out of being a comedian. World-famous, if Keigo himself were to be believed. And unlike many others in the same occupation, he had managed to live a relatively clean life, free of scandal. Strangely enough, Byakuya didn't find any of his antics very amusing. Ichigo didn't either, lacking in patience, and often responded with a swift kick to the face.

 

Much like Isshin, Keigo sprung up from such violence with a happy sprint as if he were a spring daisy. Of course, Keigo couldn't leave the visit without an inquiry as to the location of “dear sweet Rukia-chan, who was too good for rotten, scowling men like Ichigo.”

 

Byakuya simply stood there and watched as Ichigo had lied. It was probably easier for him if he did. Keigo might have been an old friend, but it still wasn't something that Ichigo wanted as common knowledge. The other captain supposed that if Keigo ever found out the truth, Ichigo would deal with it then. But he didn't want to handle the spastic attack reality would create in Keigo.

 

In any case, meeting Keigo invariably meant meeting the man's best friend, Mizuiro, who owned his own business and was currently married to an older woman. He had children, two in fact, but both were away at college. Byakuya was relieved to find that at least one of Ichigo's friends was somewhat normal, Mizuiro rather calm and pleasant-faced. Though there were times when something the man said made him think of Ichigo's vice-captain.

 

Ichigo spent a good few hours with both of them, catching up on old times. Apparently, they came to learn, Keigo's sister never forgot her crush on Ikkaku. Byakuya was just surprised that there were two idiots in the universe willing to be attracted to the bald, tactless moron. And though his scowl was firmly in place, the Kuchiki heir could easily tell that Ichigo was happy to see his friends doing so well. He would just never admit it unless pulled by his ears and submitted to the torture of listening to Yamamoto blather on.

 

The week passed, the end of their vacation drawing near. The day before they were supposed to return, Isshin sprang on them an idea that Ichigo was quick to accept. Namely, a day without the children. Luckily, Ichigo missed the wink that his father tossed Byakuya's direction when Isshin claimed that it would help to “strengthen their bond.”

 

Ichigo was blissfully oblivious, never noticing that his father was carefully crafting a trap.

 

Meanwhile, Syaoran and Kaien jumped at the chance to see a movie and go out for pizza, even if they had to endure their grandfather's presence. Yuzu and Karin took the twins. And just like that, Ichigo and Byakuya were left alone to do whatever they wanted.

 

Zaraki would have laughed his ass off. Byakuya could just imagine the look the eleventh-division captain would send him, knowing and superior, accusing with every word from his mouth.

Denial. Byakuya had no need for denial. Zaraki's accusations were so absurd. And yet… and yet, there were times when he caught himself saying something that seemed so innocuous but could definitely be construed some other way. Ichigo, for his part, never seemed to notice a damn thing, which was probably for the better.

 

“That's the hospital where I first met Kanonji,” Ichigo said, gesturing vaguely towards a rundown structure covered in ivy and half caved in on one side.

 

Byakuya blinked. “Kanonji?”

 

The name sounded familiar.

 

He paused, one hand rising to his mouth. “Why do I know that name?”

 

His companion snorted, shoving his hands back into his pockets and not seeming to notice that they were gathering a good number of stares. “He's already died and entered Soul Society. Graduated from the Academy a couple of months back and entered the tenth division.”

 

Recognition dawned. “Ah, the one who always calls you his disciple every time you meet.”

 

Ichigo scowled. “No matter how many times I tell him I'm Kurosaki-taichou, he never listens.”

 

Inwardly, Byakuya was amused. It was a form of karma, he supposed, since Ichigo had constantly teased Hitsugaya by calling him so familiarly. He had a bad habit of that, though it hadn't really changed.

 

“That explains why you avoid the tenth,” Byakuya responded, a hint of teasing in his tone. But only a hint. He was Kuchiki Byakuya, after all.

 

“In part.” Ichigo paused, glancing around him. “Heh. I think we're near Ishida's place.”

 

“The Quincy?”

 

Ichigo nodded, peering at the nearest street sign and trying to decide if he was accurate. “Last I remembered, his house was around here. Tried to call him, but the bastard was out of town for a fashion show. Or that's what Tatsuki said at least.”

 

“And how is Arisawa-san?”

 

Byakuya remembered seeing pictures of her in Ichigo's house. Some of them were older, when Ichigo was only a boy and at the same dojo as her. A few were more recent. One showed her with her family, her only son and her husband, who just happened to be the last surviving Quincy. Well, not anymore. He already had a twitchy child to pass his skills onto. Honestly, the boy… well, a man now, had some sort of weird abhorrence to buttons.

 

Ichigo sighed, shoulders visibly slumping. “Her dojo's near here. I could probably stop by and see her, but I don't feel like explaining anything. Tatsuki's like a lie detector. She'd know something was up in a minute.”

 

“She is a rather... forceful woman,” Byakuya conceded, inclining his head.

 

There was a snicker. “That's putting it politely.”

 

He felt a smile twitch at his lips. The past week had been very healing for Ichigo. While he hadn't completely forgotten about the mess waiting for him in Seireitei, he didn't look on the verge of a mental breakdown.

 

Luckily, Karin stopped prying for information in front of the children after the first day. She did, however, pull her brother aside for the whole story, after revealing that she had already known most of it thanks to her boyfriend and explaining what she had been intending.

 

Ichigo did sit down and tell Yuzu that he and Rukia were separating, though he didn't detail the entire reasoning behind it. Byakuya had overheard part of the conversation by accident, and he could tell that Ichigo still hoped something would work out. He didn't explicitly say so but, he it was pretty damn obvious.

 

Kaien and Syaoran remained unaware of the true purpose behind their mother's absence. Byakuya knew that wouldn't be the case for much longer, but he hoped there was enough time that Ichigo could fortify himself for that particular conversation.

 

“Is that… eh, what's his name? The Afro-guy?”

 

Byakuya shifted his attention to find Ichigo staring at the top of some building, his forehead pinched in confusion. He followed his companion's gaze, setting sights on a Shinigami, who was doing a strange sort of movement. Posing, it looked like. He was vaguely familiar, likely the person assigned to normally patrol Karakura.

 

“What's he doing?” Ichigo questioned.

 

The Kuchiki heir shrugged elegantly. “Something we are probably saner not knowing about.”

 

Then, as he watched, a rather impish grin took over the other captain's face. His lips slid into a slow smirk.

 

“He looks bored,” Ichigo mused aloud. “We should give him something to do.”

 

Byakuya lifted a brow, sensing a plot. “Oh? Do tell.”

 

“Watch this.” A look that was purely Kaien crossed Ichigo's face, further cementing in Byakuya's mind where the boy received it from.

 

Ichigo slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out the gikongan, popping one of the small round orbs into his mouth. Before Byakuya could blink, he slipped out of his gigai in full Shinigami form, leaving a rather sedate mod soul behind.

 

Both Byakuya and the mod soul watched as Ichigo successfully masked his reiatsu and used a few flits of shunpo until he was on the rooftop. He appeared behind Zennosuke without the other Shinigami noticing, remaining completely unaware as he continued his posturing.

 

With a self-assured smirk that Byakuya could see even from the distance, Ichigo reached up and twitched his fingers over his face. The Kuchiki heir could feel the pulse of reiatsu as he summoned his Hollow mask, sweeping through the air.

 

Apparently, so did Zennosuke, his entire body stiffening in surprise. One hand in the midst of his movements paused.

 

Then, Ichigo reached forward and ever so calmly, tapped the resident Shinigami on the shoulder.

 

Zennosuke turned slowly, eyes wide.

 

“Boo.”

 

Byakuya could hear Ichigo's voice, though it must have been a pretty sedate statement. Behind the Hollow's mask, it had taken on an airy, almost grating quality.

 

There was a brief moment of stillness before Zennosuke let out an unearthly shriek and leapt backwards in an attempt to escape, right over the railing. In his terror, he must have forgotten about his ability to form substance beneath his feet because he promptly dropped like a rock, tumbling straight into a bush directly beneath him. The resulting rustle and thump was unnoticed by anyone.

 

The Kuchiki heir found a faint smile quirking his lips as Ichigo's mask shattered, and he quickly made his way back to where he had left Byakuya and the mod soul. Easing into his gigai with the familiarity of one used to constantly slipping in and out of fake bodies, Ichigo snickered.

 

“I see,” Byakuya said as his companion took a moment to settle back into place. “So that was your plan.”

 

The grin that stretched his companion's face was a sight more welcome than the recent melancholy. “Who wants to bet that the moment he wakes up, he sends a report to Soul Society about an unknown Vizard running wild around Karakura?” the younger man asked as he led Byakuya away from the scene of the crime.

 

As they passed, Zennosuke's feet could be seen faintly twitching where they stuck out of the bush, leaves swishing as he trembled in fear.

 

Byakuya shook his head. He faintly noticed that they were leaving the center of the shopping district to the outskirts of Karakura, away from the crowds.

 

“He should have at least recognized Kurosaki-taichou on sight,” the other captain responded, entirely deadpan. “If he hasn't, then his incompetence is certainly not our fault.”

 

“See?” Ichigo countered with a snort, waving one hand in the air. “No one believes me when I tell them you have a sense of humor.”

 

“I can't imagine why,” the Kuchiki heir responded with a straight face.

 

Ichigo chuckled then noticed something of importance, nudging him with a shoulder. He lifted one hand, gesturing towards a large structure to their left. It was made of brick and appeared quite busy, people coming in and out of the wide double doors in the front.

 

“That's Karin's bureau,” he explained as Byakuya's eyes wandered over the unfamiliar building. “She's probably on a case though.”

 

Byakuya did a quick sweep with his reiatsu. “I don't sense her inside, so that is likely.”

 

“She usually doesn't mind visitors,” Ichigo added as they passed the bureau and continued, leaving the last remnants of the shopping district and heading towards a more residential area. “Though she hates it when Toushirou stops by in his gigai.” A quiet snicker escaped him. “They think he's her son.”

 

Byakuya felt his lips twitch. “To be expected, considering their situation.”

 

“At least with Yuzu and Hanatarou, he looks legal.”

 

A noncommittal sound of agreement was Byakuya's response. A wind stirred, bringing with it a fresh breeze that chased away the pressing heat of the day. He wondered if it was just him that thought it far hotter in the living world than in Seireitei.

 

“Where are we going?” Byakuya questioned, noticing that they had been making a rather broad circle of the town and were now on the edge, near to the river.

 

Ichigo shrugged, hands returning to his pockets. “Nowhere in particular. Why?”

 

“Merely curious,” he responded, thinking that this was actually rather pleasant.

 

A quiet walk with no purpose in mind, no expectations. He was there on vacation with no work to be done, no paperwork to sign. No one in Karakura was there to give Ichigo strange looks about his situation or to whisper behind his back.

 

Not unexpectedly, Byakuya was content. Simply allowing himself to be as they wandered further and further.

 

However, he suddenly narrowed his eyes, gaze flickering around. Something about this street looked familiar. A long and lonely stretch of road, lined on either side by trees. The tall length of power lines. Beyond leafy branches, he could make out houses in the background, deftly hidden by vegetation. It was different under the light of the sun but essentially the same. Nothing had changed. The bloodstain was gone, if it had ever been there at all.

 

Ichigo hadn't said it, but Byakuya was certain this was the place. It felt vaguely of old memories. Enough so that he almost believed that if he concentrated, he could still sense traces of their reiatsu.

 

It seemed so long ago, though to a Shinigami it was a bare breath in their lifespan. Less than fifty years had passed since that fateful moment when he and Renji had descended to Karakura to fetch his sister. He could still remember the look in Ichigo's eyes, untrained and unknowing, yet still standing proudly to protect his friend.

 

That determination hadn't faded, instead being applied to everything he did. Ichigo had been so very young, in both face and knowledge. He had swung a sword whose name he did not know, whose size was unprecedented. He had risked his life to protect a person he had only known for a few months.

 

He had known he was outmatched, or at least, he should have known. But he hadn't given up, had kept on fighting. Was going to keep fighting, even as he was bleeding on the ground, his life's blood pooling onto the wet pavement. Byakuya wasn't entirely certain what stayed his hand back then, what kept him from deleting the last evidence of Ichigo's life.

 

Maybe it had been Rukia's request, her silent pleading. Perhaps he had seen something in those eyes that he couldn't bring himself to extinguish. It was possible that a part of him thought it far more painful to leave the boy behind, beaten and destroyed before he lost his life. It was the first actual rebellion he had made against his orders concerning Rukia and her transgressions, leaving Ichigo alive.

 

Or maybe Fate had intervened then, too.

 

Without Ichigo, they might have lost the whole war. No, in all painful honesty, they would have lost the war.

 

Ichigo didn't think he was a hero; it simply wasn't in his personality to believe such a thing. But that was the truth, and every high-ranking Shinigami in Seireitei knew it. Everyone in Seireitei knew it. Ichigo had done what needed to be done, and that was what he would be the first to tell you. But there were few who could have taken his place. If any at all.

 

His determination was like a rallying cry for the others, dragging them from their apathetic arrogance and forcing them to the front lines. Ichigo could inspire strength in them like none other. Aizen might have had the ability to bring out the loyalty in his Arrancar, but Ichigo was charisma. Like an undeniable gravitation.

 

Ichigo was a full Shinigami now and a Vizard as well. He had matured in the past forty years, had grown from that naively determined teenager. But really, not much had changed. He still fought for his own beliefs, still stood up for his own honor. He was still very much the same boy he had been in some ways, determined to the bitter end. For anything. Everything.

 

“It's strange being back,” Ichigo said softly, voice breaking into the comfortable silence they had settled into. “How things are different and so much the same.”

 

He must have recognized then, just exactly where they were.

 

“Time does pass differently for a Shinigami,” Byakuya responded. “Time does not flow here as it does in Seireitei. The length of a year means next to nothing.”

 

Ichigo lifted his head from where he had been watching the sidewalk beneath them, cracked and faded but still the same. “Yes, I know. But it's still weird. I look the same as I did since the war. I haven't aged a bit.” He paused. “My little sisters could be my mother; that's the difference in our ages. And even the old man looks two steps away from the grave, though he's still pretty spry.”

 

He supposed that for Ichigo, all of that would be very strange. While he had grown accustomed to living in Seireitei, part of Ichigo was still very much human. It was evident in some of the things he often offhandedly said, in some of the ways that he viewed certain things.

 

“I have wondered why Isshin just doesn't return,” Byakuya mused aloud, tucking a lock of escaped hair behind his ear, and though it was a ridiculous looking object, he rather missed his Kenseikan at the moment. “It is obvious that his gigai has aged past the natural assumed… expiration date.”

 

Ichigo sniggered, giving him an amused look before he replaced it with something a bit more serious. “I think it's because of the geta-boushi.”

 

He lifted a brow. “Oh? It is not as though Urahara is unable to return either. His exile was lifted after the war.”

 

“I know that,” Ichigo responded, inclining his head. “But he's not ready to let go yet. Ururu lived here.”

 

Byakuya absorbed that particular detail, fully able to amend it in his mind. Ururu might have been in the living world, but Aizen Sousuke had been in Soul Society. Both places held equally painful memories for Urahara Kisuke. He could understand why the man had no inclination to hurry back to his old home.

 

“Besides,” Ichigo added. “He and Yoruichi like `slumming it.' Not to mention they don't have to worry about anyone else's opinion here. They answer to no one but themselves.”

 

There was a note to Ichigo's voice. Almost wistful. And Byakuya knew they were about to delve into the topic that had been hanging over both their heads. It had been casually hiding behind Ichigo's relief at being home but was now daring to show his face as the reality of returning to Soul Society loomed.

 

“No matter how long Urahara waits, Seireitei is his home,” Byakuya replied, his words having more than one meaning. “In the end, he will still return. And given time, his memories will ease.”

 

There was a moment of silence, their footsteps against the pavement the only noise. Ichigo absorbed Byakuya's words, both about himself and Urahara.

 

In the distance, there was the sharp tone of some large clock chiming the hour of the day.

 

“I know,” Ichigo finally responded, eyes falling to the ground. “And he probably knows that, too. But it doesn't mean that he doesn't wish things couldn't be different.”

 

Byakuya lifted his gaze, eyes tracking a passing cloud above them. One of the few marring the otherwise pale sky.

 

“We can't erase the past,” he offered. “We can only shape the future.”

 

Another moment passed before Ichigo's lip curled. “You sound like one of those advice columns,” he said with a chuckle. “Do they have a Dear Byakuya-bo section?” He changed his voice, to something more mocking and high-pitched. “Dear Byakuya-bo, my boyfriend turned into an evil overlord and tried to take over the universe. What should I do? Signed, Hat-kun.”

 

Byakuya scowled. What was it with everyone giving him nicknames? He had a perfectly good name as it was.

 

Noticing his expression, Ichigo laughed. “What would you prefer Kuchiki-hime?”

 

“I would prefer Byakuya,” he responded with a sour look. “Or in some cases, Kuchiki-taichou.”

 

Ichigo chuckled again and then sighed wistfully. “I'm glad you're here, Byakushi.”

 

Another one of those infernal nicknames. But Byakuya barely noticed. He was too busy trying to clamp down on the sudden thudding of something inside of him, and the subsequent burst of warm flutters.

 

“You didn't think I would?”

 

Ichigo shrugged, looking at Byakuya from the corner of his eye. “Well, I am just your brother-in-law, you know. You should probably be with your sister, but here you are with me.”

 

With me.

 

That idiotic Zaraki voice in his head began to cackle again. `But he loves you more,' the foolish and insane tone mocked.

 

It was as if Zaraki knew about the faint embarrassment that was suddenly rocketing through Byakuya. He was well aware that he was about to grin or blush like a damned lovesick fool. Make moony-eyes as Zaraki had so elegantly put it.

 

Byakuya had the sudden urge to make mincemeat out of a certain eleventh-division captain.

 

“The soutaichou insisted,” the Kuchiki heir forced out, somehow managing to keep his voice even. He firmly ignored the burst of activity within him.

 

It was all Zaraki's fault.

 

“And why would he do that?”

 

Byakuya pulled off nonchalant rather well. “You would have to ask him,” he answered mildly.

 

“Right. I'll get on that,” Ichigo responded and tilted his head to look up at the sky, as if able to gauge the time by the position of the sun alone. “We should probably be getting back. I don't want to leave my children with Isshin any longer than necessary.”

 

“With good reason.”

 

Ichigo snorted, lowering his gaze and focusing on the streets around them, likely checking their route. “Goat-Face is a moron, but at least, he loves us... in his own insane version of reality.” He paused, a thought furrowing his brow, before turning to look at Byakuya hopefully. “Tell me he was different as a captain.”

 

The Kuchiki heir shot him a side long look, one that spoke volumes without him having to say anything at all.

 

“I was afraid of that.” Ichigo sighed. “I only hope it's not genetic.”

 

“Perhaps you were adopted,” Byakuya suggested teasingly.

 

The Vizard gave a mock gasp. “Maybe Jyuushiro really is my father,” Ichigo declared with false surprise.

 

“Indeed. The resemblance is uncanny.”

 

Ichigo snorted again, an outward laugh escaping him. Byakuya was just glad to see that the lines of worry had all but vanished from his forehead, even if only for a short while.

 

“What does that make Toushirou? My little brother?”

 

Byakuya gave him a slanted look. “I suppose that would make Kira-san your okaa-san,” he deadpanned, his voice not betraying any of his humor.

 

“Either that or Shunsui.”

 

He placed one hand on his chin in deep thought. “There is a slight resemblance,” he mused aloud.

 

A shoulder knocked into his playfully. “There are worse people to resemble. Kenpachi for one. Or Renji.”

 

Byakuya's lips twitched before he could stop them. “I only hope that his child takes after Orihime-san.” In his mind, he couldn't erase the picture of an infant with Renji's wild and bright hair.

 

“With this color hair, I'm glad that my children escaped my fate.” Ichigo ruffled a hand over his head demonstratively, sending the usually disarrayed strands into an even more disordered placement.

 

“You could always dye it.”

 

But inwardly, Byakuya thought everything was just fine the way it was. He recognized, however, that Ichigo's hair had been a sore point for him as a child.

 

“What? And give Jyuushiro another mental breakdown?” He scoffed.

 

The older man inclined his head. “I admit that at first your appearance was... unsettling.” Though that was a mild way to put it.

 

“Unsettling?” Ichigo repeated as if sensing Byakuya's thoughts. “Jyuushiro nearly had a heart attack. Or so I heard.” He shrugged. “It's not my fault. Isshin claims that we're Shiba somewhere in there.” He gestured vaguely.

 

“Somewhere in there?”

 

Ichigo shook his head. “It's Isshin. Don't expect much. He can't remember his own birthday, much less our lineage further back than his own grandfather.”

 

“Too many blows to the head, I suspect.”

 

Ichigo smirked, though the mirth faded as he changed subjects. “Still, I worry about when Kaien gets older. Not only for Jyuushiro's sake. His interest in being a Shinigami seems unstoppable. I'm not even sure he realizes that there are other options.”

 

“What do you expect?” Byakuya questioned mildly. “He sees you and how much everyone admires you. He's proud of that?”

 

His companion scowled. “There's nothing to admire.”

 

“There are many who think differently.”

 

Ichigo scuffed a foot against the pavement. “I know. But--”

 

“Ichigoooooooo!”

 

Duck. Spin. Jab. Kick. Flip. Punch.

 

“Dammit, Goat-Face!”

 

Crash!

 

Byakuya felt a smile flit onto his face.

 

Just another typical day at the Kurosaki's.

 

*****