Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Of Violence ❯ 13: Decisions ( Chapter 14 )

Of Violence

Chapter Thirteen: Decisions

 

The silence between them was both loud and awkward. Rukia's stomach churned at the lack of sound, at the unease between she and her brother. They had improved their relationship over the years, having finally begun to act like real siblings. But now, it was like they had returned to step one, awkwardly trying to find an existence that included one another when they had only recently met.

 

They were at her quarters, decidedly neutral ground, sitting across from each other. A tray of tea sat between them, completely untouched and likely to stay that way. Rukia had been surprised to open the door and find her brother on the other side. If anything, she had expected to be summoned to the Kuchiki manor for something much more official. A part of her would have preferred that. At least, then she would know what to anticipate.

 

Now, with him sitting in front of her and looking everywhere but at her, she felt a little sick on the inside. As if she had destroyed more than just her relationship with Ichigo and the children with her mistakes.

 

Her fingers clenching on her knees, Rukia fought to keep from appearing too stressed. “How is Ichigo?” she asked, just to break the uncomfortable silence. She couldn't take it anymore. “He and the children?”

 

“Confused,” Byakuya answered simply and slowly, as though he were fighting with himself for the same reason as she. “And hurt. They miss you.”

 

Rukia winced, a sigh escaping from her lips. “I know.” She paused, hating that it had come to this, returning to discomfited uncertainty. She was suddenly back eighty-or-so years, sitting in front of her new brother and trying her damn best to make him proud without knowing how to do it.

 

“Nii-sama... thank you for taking care of them.”

 

He shifted, an unusual action for a man as composed as Byakuya, and finally dragged his eyes towards her. “It is my duty.”

 

Her brow raised. “Your duty?” Rukia repeated and then shook her head, not believing entirely. It was another typical Byakuya-response that she readily recognized. “How are Isshin, Yuzu, and Karin?”

 

“They are getting along fine,” he answered after a moment's thought. “Karin was rather angry, but Ichigo spoke with her.”

 

Rukia knew the moment he realized what she was aiming for as he paused, eyes narrowing. Duty demanded that he aid Ichigo in caring for the children, that he provide support in making sure their needs were met. Friendship and probably something more encouraged him to follow Ichigo, who was only his brother-in-law, to Karakura for the week-long vacation.

 

She watched as he took a deep breath.

 

“And you?”

 

At the abrupt change in subject, Rukia blinked. “What?”

 

“How are you?”

 

Surprise filtered through. She had both not expected and expected the question. Even this many decades later, she was still no better at reading Byakuya and his actions. He continued to surprise her.

 

Rukia's fingers spasmed on her knee, despite her attempts to keep a clamp on them. “Tired,” she replied. “And I miss them as well. I don't want to lose my family, but...” she trailed off, unable to think of anything to add that wasn't leading into another uncertain circle.

 

Her brother, however, wasn't willing to let the lack of answer slide. “But?” he prompted and watched her closely.

 

She didn't answer. There was no simple way to explain herself.

 

Byakuya prodded her again. “Rukia, what do you wish to do? You cannot force them to wait like this.”

 

“I know,” she put in tiredly, wincing at the hint of reproach in his tone. “It's not a simple choice though. Do I give up my family? I can't just do that. I don't want to do that.”

 

“I realize as much,” Byakuya said with infinite patience, borne more from his uncertainty than a complete calm towards the situation. “But you only hurt them by being reluctant to make the decision. They cling to a thin hope, and it will be more painful the longer you draw it out.” Grey eyes watched as Rukia's hands kneaded her knees, gaze drawn to the side where it seemed safe.

 

“I don't want to hurt him anymore,” she said quietly, forehead wrinkling. “Just drawing away wasn't enough. I fear that if I stay with him, I'll only hurt him again.”

 

He wasn't quite sure what to say to that, and a heavy silence settled between them. Byakuya wanted to ask, to demand why, but he couldn't find the words. He felt he was too close to the situation, that he couldn't be rational. Not when it was his sister and best friend, who also happened to be his brother-in-law. Not when he had seen just what this whole situation had done to the both of them, what it was still doing to them. Not when he simply wanted to see the both of them happy again.

 

“I'm sure you want to know,” Rukia suddenly began but hesitated. “You've heard the rumors, I know. But... it's not what you think.”

 

Byakuya swallowed. “Ichigo has told me as much,” he responded, the silence of her quarters grating on him for reasons beyond his understanding. “I would like to hear your side, however.”

 

She sucked in a deep breath. “There's so much I could say. Excuses I could give. The stress and the frustration and just everything. But none of that really means anything, does it?”

 

“I do not know. You tell me.”

 

Rukia's shoulders slumped in defeat. “It really doesn't,” she repeated. “Now, we're all suffering. In the end, does it really matter why? I moved out because I knew that if I didn't, he would have just let it all go on. He wouldn't have said anything; he would have just bore it. Just like he did everything else we put on him during the war.”

 

His throat tightened in remembrance. Byakuya himself was surprised Ichigo was even willing to be in Soul Society at all considering what Yamamoto had convinced him of so many times. Leading battles when all he had wanted to do was rescue a friend, to save his hometown. Seireitei made Ichigo their figurehead when he hadn't wanted the job.

 

He never had done anything for thanks or medals or hero-status. He had done it because someone had to and he wasn't the type to stand aside and wait for someone else to act.

 

“I don't have an explanation,” Rukia continued without any prompting on his part. It seemed that was what she needed to hear from him. “Not a good one. And I won't waste time with excuses. Ichigo deserves better.”

 

“Rukia, you don't need to explain anything else,” he inserted, even as she opened her mouth to say something more. Likely a rehash of what she already said.

 

A moment of silence passed as she nodded, comprehension clear in her expression.

 

Finally, she reached forward, fiddling with the tea but not drinking it. “What have the elders to say?” Rukia questioned in a deceptively light tone. “I know they must be displeased.”

 

“Displeasure is not quite accurate,” Byakuya answered slowly, holding back on an annoyed sigh. “They are both outraged and humiliated. I have been approached by the elders on more than one occasion. They demand that I disown you.”

 

Her face fell, though her look clearly showed that she had expected as much. “I assumed that it would end up like this.”

 

“It is, however, my decision,” Byakuya clarified when something in him tugged at the sight of her sorrow. “I don't like what has happened, but I do take responsibility. For being the one who brought you into the clan.”

 

Blue eyes widened marginally. “No,” Rukia stated firmly. “No. I can't let you do that.”

 

“What?”

 

Her hands returned to her lap and clenched around the fabric of her kimono. “The actions were my own,” she explained, gaze meeting his resolutely. “Let them fall on me.”

 

He studied her for several long moments. “Very well, then I will let you decide.”

 

She clenched one hand, a wave of uncertainty mixed flashing through her escaping reiatsu. “I don't care for the particulars of nobility or anyone else in the Kuchiki clan.”

 

Rukia looked at him. And for a moment, he swore that he saw Hisana telling him that she was dying. It was the same apologetic glance.

 

“But I don't want to lose my brother.”

 

In his heart, he knew he didn't want to lose his sister either. They had come too far. He might be angry with her for her treatment of Ichigo. He might be disappointed. But in the past years, he had grown to love Rukia as his sister. He had grown to accept her as his true family and not just an obligation he fulfilled. There were few in the Kuchiki line who he cherished, and Byakuya was loathe to lose that.

 

A part of him also understood. Rukia was not malicious by nature, nor was she intentionally out to bring pain and ruin to Ichigo. While Byakuya didn't know entirely the whole situation, somewhere inside he felt he could at least understand somehow.

 

He took a breath. “Then, if you are willing to withstand their scrutiny, I will put in my word for you.”

 

It was the closest to “I love you” that he could say without speaking the words. Even as close as they had drawn, he still found it impossible to say such things aloud.

 

The relief in her face and the gratitude made everything worth it. Her eyes practically shimmered with tears, though she blinked them away. Abruptly wiping at the glimmer of wetness with the back of her hand, she bowed a bit too formally for his liking. They were still treading the line of familiarity and courtesy.

 

“Thank you, nii-sama,” Rukia stated in a choked voice. “And I apologize for bringing this shame into the family.”

 

“I have already learned when rules are to be broken,” he said, perhaps a bit too stiffly. But it was as close to affection as a man like him could express. He looked away, towards the unadorned wall of Rukia's quarters that didn't resemble home at all. “I have also learned what it means to be a brother.”

 

Rukia was quiet as he spoke, letting him say his peace. With some effort, he dragged his gaze back towards her.

 

“I will stand by you, but I cannot have you hurt him again.”

 

She inclined her head, looking at him with something broken behind her eyes. It made him ache, too. Just a little. It was clearly regret, clearly a wish to go back into time and change everything. It was so similar to the same look that he caught in Ichigo's eyes from time to time that Byakuya was stunned.

 

“I won't. I swear it,” Rukia whispered.

 

And he believed her.

 

Byakuya breathed a sigh of relief. “That is all I wanted to hear.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

He watched as she took several deep, steadying breaths, trying to ease the tension in her shoulders.

 

“Nii-sama, I know what they are saying about me.”

 

The captain had heard them also. Most, he didn't believe. Others echoed the Kenpachi-cackle in the back of his mind. He could even hear the insinuations. He wondered if that was where Rukia was trying to head.

 

“I have as well,” he replied and attempted to ignore the sudden stutter-beat of his heart. “Rest assured, I do not fall prey to rumor. I care not for what the idle passerby may claim.”

 

She looked relieved, but it melted away. “I know. I wasn't concerned that you believed them. Though in part, one may not be entirely inaccurate.”

 

He cocked an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

 

Rukia looked as if she wanted to demand an answer and yet never ask the question at the same time. It was clear that it was something that had haunted her for quite some time. Many nights must have been spent in thought and worry, etching deeper lines of worry and frustration.

 

A part of Byakuya squirmed in unease.

 

“I never blamed either of you for it,” Rukia began softly. “And I suppose it's partly my fault for noticing but choosing to ignore.”

 

Byakuya felt his pulse pick up a faster rhythm because he knew exactly what she meant. He suddenly didn't want to hear.

 

“Rukia, there's--”

 

She shook her head, cutting him off. It was something she only recently managed to be able to do.

 

“I know that,” Rukia interrupted. “I know there's nothing between you and Ichigo. But there's something. And there always has been.”

 

“Rukia,” Byakuya started, his own fingers clenching against his knees as he struggled to find the right words. “I don't know how to respond to that. Except to say that it honestly isn't true.”

 

She looked at him. And he wasn't sure how to describe the emotions blazing behind her eyes.

 

“I don't want you to say anything. For the same reason I never made an issue of anything before.” She rose to her feet, gaze never leaving his. “But I've also learned the hard way that the longer you deny something the worse the end becomes.”

 

Her insinuations stung more sharply than Kenpachi's for some reason, likely because it was coming from his sister rather than a captain he barely tolerated. As if he should stop trying to fool himself and start listening to the truth.

 

Byakuya was unable to say a single word, rising to his feet silently as his younger sister stared at him with all the knowledge in the world. A part of him felt he should apologize for reasons beyond his understanding.

 

“Thank you for coming, nii-sama,” Rukia said instead, breaking the tense silence with a bow that was painfully polite. “I appreciate it.”

 

He took her words as a cue to leave. It was growing late, after all, and he had come to say what he wanted to. He had a feeling the rest would be thinking material for late at night.

 

“If you need anything,” Byakuya replied, catching her eyes, “do not hesitate to ask. I am still your brother.”

 

“I know,” Rukia answered. “I know.” She smiled then, something real and true that actually shifted her expression away from the sorrow and regret that had been lingering.

 

- - -

 

A month and nothing had changed.

 

Ichigo had noticed this fact with a morose sigh, feeling the eyes that seemed determined to track his movements. Even when he was doing something as innocuous as having lunch with Shunsui. There were still whispers, though they were in less frequency and not as audible, and he was still being stared at. The rumors weren't as wild as they had been in the beginning, but they hadn't been completely eradicated. He supposed that since neither he nor Rukia talked to anyone about it, there was little to feed them.

 

One month, barely thirty days, had passed. Yet, it felt like so much longer to Ichigo. It was one month of sleeping in an empty bed, of coming home to take care of four children on his own, two of whom always had questions. One month of wondering and worrying, of waiting. One month of Rukia visiting once a weekend with the children, while Ichigo and she shared painfully polite conversation. One month of “I don't know.”

 

Ichigo was nearly at his wit's end, barely clinging to his control. He wanted to scream, to destroy something. He longed for a war, for a battle, for something to take out his frustrations on. But mostly, he wished for someone to have the answers. He didn't know what he was supposed to do anymore.

 

Thus the reason for lunch with Shunsui.

 

Ichigo desperately needed advice and didn't want to go to Jyuushiro or Byakuya for it. Shunsui was the only one he knew who was aware of the entire situation outside of the immediate parties involved. Not that Ichigo had made mention of his ulterior motive when he finally accepted Shunsui's invitation for lunch.

 

Ichigo kept his silence throughout the entire meal, letting Shunsui carry the conversation all on his own. They had stealthily avoided the topic of discussion. Now that they were out in the open, walking the outskirts of Seireitei, Ichigo felt he could finally address his questions. Only, he didn't even know where to begin.

 

Beside him, Shunsui plucked his hat off his head, waving the straw to fan his face. “The days are getting warmer and warmer,” he remarked, tilting his head back to stare up at the sun and cloudless sky. “It looks like summer's going to be hotter than usual unfortunately.”

 

Ichigo didn't respond, making a noncommittal sound of agreement in his throat. His eyes unconsciously scanned the area, pleased to find that they were mostly alone. A few random Shinigami scampered here and there, but they seemed too harried to be concerned with the passing captains. A polite nod of greeting was all that they managed before they were gone.

 

From the corner of his eye, Shunsui watched his companion. He had the sense that Ichigo wanted to speak from the moment he accepted the lunch invitation.

 

“What is it, Ichigo? You look like you have something on your mind?”

 

Ichigo snorted at the obvious statement. “Considering all that's happened, I'd be more surprised if I didn't.”

 

Their waraji padded nearly silent on the tiled walk. Somewhere in the distance were the sounds of people sparring. The dull thunder of kidoh practice. Smells wafted their direction from the mess. It seemed so perfectly normal and content.

 

Finally, Shunsui broke the silence between them, all traces of his normal joviality pushed away for the sake of seriousness. “Would you like to talk about it?

 

An opportunity given when he wasn't ready. But it only prompted Ichigo's silence. He didn't even know what he wanted to ask. And a part of him was tired of everything, hearing everyone's opinions, hearing the rumors.

 

Sensing his hesitation, Shunsui's hat found his head again. “Very well, how about I talk then?”

 

“It's not as easy as asking someone what I'm supposed to do,” Ichigo suddenly blurted out, hands clenching at his sides in an effort to refrain from throwing them into the air and making a spectacle of himself.

 

Shunsui inclined his head. “This is true,” he conceded, folding his arms into his sleeves. He paused and figured that he was about to suggest something that might offend the younger captain. “Have you considered divorce?”

 

He was relieved when Ichigo didn't immediately explode with anger. Instead, there was a soft sort of silence that spoke a thousand words. Ichigo's gaze fell to the ground in thought, and it was all the proof Shunsui needed. Divorce had crossed Ichigo's mind, and it was no longer as quickly dismissed as it had been before.

 

“I love her, Shunsui,” Ichigo finally said with none of the bluster he had all those years ago when he had first admitted it. “I don't want to leave her.”

 

The older captain hummed thoughtfully. “Is it her you love? Or the idea of your marriage to her?”

 

More silence greeted the question.

 

“Or maybe that's not it,” Shunsui posed, sensing he was getting close to the truth. “You can still love her and not be in love with her, Ichigo.”

 

One hand raked through orange strands, mussing up hair that remained perpetually unstyled. “My children need their mother,” Ichigo countered flatly.

 

“That also may be true,” Shunsui conceded. “But I think they don't need to see their mother abusing their father either.”

 

The full force of a Kurosaki glare beamed into the side of his face. “Don't call it that,” Ichigo put in, voice cold and very nearly sounding like the Kuchiki Byakuya.

 

“Then what would you like to call it?” Shunsui asked mildly, watching Ichigo's reaction from the corner of his eyes. “That's what it was. Whether you admitted it or not.”

 

He was not surprised by Ichigo's silence, though he could tell the younger captain was thinking. He understood Ichigo's reluctance to name the truth. It was like announcing to the world just what he let his wife do to him. And while Ichigo had never been the type focused on pride, he was still a man, and it was a major blow to his virility.

 

“You're not alone in this,” Shunsui added. “And they will still get to see her, even if you were to part ways.”

 

Ichigo frowned, brow drawing deeper and deeper, making him appear years older than before. He appreciated what Shunsui was telling him, knowing that the older captain was correct. Byakuya was always willing to lend a hand. Jyuushiro practically begged to babysit. He had Tohru, Nami, and Sanji in his household. Not to mention his family in Karakura. It would not be the same as raising them alone in the Living World. Yet, all those caretakers could not replace Rukia's presence.

 

Nor could they replace her in his heart either. He didn't want to give Rukia up so easily, even if a part of him was slowly realizing that it was already over. A part of him had already realized it, and the rest just refused to accept. He caught himself wondering if she even loved him anymore. It just seemed like she wasn't even trying for them. As if she had given up long before he had.

 

Finally, Ichigo sighed. “You might be right.”

 

“Of course, I am,” Shunsui agreed with a grin. He was glad that Ichigo was starting to understand. “I've lived centuries longer. I think that I know a few things.”

 

“Mmmm.” Ichigo's hum was perfectly noncommittal.

 

Shunsui thought it was the perfect time to throw something different at the younger man, something to keep him on his toes. He and Kenpachi had had an interesting conversation recently about a certain pair of oblivious friends, and Shunsui had to agree with the other captain. Something needed to be done. And it was time for Shunsui to take a turn stirring up the pot.

 

He flipped his hat into the air and situated it back on his head. “Including where else your heart may lean,” he added almost nonchalantly.

 

Ichigo abruptly stopped and whirled to stare at Shunsui suspiciously. “Just what the hell are you talking about?”

 

Even the eighth division captain could see the hint of comprehension, however. “Come now, Ichi-chan,” he prodded, wondering if he was having far too much fun with this. “You aren't nearly as oblivious as he is.”

 

Brown eyes glared so fiercely that Shunsui almost believed his favorite haori was about to spontaneously burst into flame. “There's nothing between us,” Ichigo retorted, shoulders drawn taut with tension.

 

“And yet, you knew exactly who I meant without any names.” The older man couldn't help the bit of sparkle of amusement in his tone.

 

It wasn't that he didn't like Rukia. She and Ichigo were wonderful together, and he wished for nothing more than for them to be happy as a couple. But more than that, he wanted Ichigo to be happy. And it was obvious, even if neither realized it, that their marriage was on a steady slide downwards. Even if they ever managed to work out the situation, nothing would ever be the same. No matter how much either of them wished for it.

“It's pretty damn obvious,” Ichigo muttered. He grinded his jaw. “Especially since Rukia has already accused me of the same.”

 

He couldn't help but wonder why everyone seemed to be pushing it. His friends. His family's insinuations. Everywhere he turned, someone implied something. He was just friends with Byakuya. Nothing more. It was getting to the point of ridiculous. Even Rukia had said something.

 

Shunsui lifted a hand and touched the brim of his hat as he eyed the younger captain. “It's something to think about.”

 

“Or you're just trying to convince me to divorce her,” Ichigo returned with a faint huff, shifting his gaze towards the faint sounds of sparring in the distance. His fingers twitched, reminding him that he'd not effectively used Zangetsu in a long time.

 

In the back of his mind, Shirosaki tugged. He hadn't used his Hollow either, and he was not only getting restless but was still suffering from inclement weather. He wondered if it were wrong of him to miss the war. When he hadn't had time to think. Only act and react. Fight for his life, fight to protect, fight to win. There was no time for dramatic bullshit and nonsense. None of it mattered when it was life and death.

 

Shunsui kept his silence, not offended by Ichigo's brusque brush-off. The other captain was merely retaliating out of a mixture of confusion and understanding. Shunsui knew that a part of Ichigo was already aware of what he needed to do. He just wasn't ready to do it. The older man supposed he would be much the same way. He hadn't had chance to marry himself, but if he had, Shunsui knew he wouldn't have been able to let go of his wife easily either.

 

With a final, frustrated sigh, Ichigo turned away, face pinched with thought. “Thanks for the advice,” he said and began to head back the way they had came. “And lunch.”

 

“Don't forget,” Shunsui called after him, voice entirely too cheery. “You're meeting Jyuu-chan and I for drinks on Friday!”

 

Ichigo threw a wave over his shoulder to prove he had heard, leaving Shunsui to shrug and grin as he continued on his way. He was already whistling under his breath, contemplating what to bring his lovely Nanao-chan in apology for skipping out on work again.

 

His path took Ichigo towards one of the recreation areas on the edge of the Gotei 13's compound. It had been specifically designed for relaxation and resembled a city park from the Living World with an abundance of artfully crafted benches and vegetation. A small stream ran through the midst of the area, babbling quietly in the heat of the afternoon. It was one of the few places that no one would look for him, especially if he pulled in his reiatsu.

 

He found a lone tree near the back, a place rarely used because it was so far from the entrance. Despite not being in full bloom, Ichigo easily recognized the beauty of a sakura. He reached behind him and removed Zangetsu to set the zanpakutou down beside him. A part of him thought it ironic as he sat beneath the reaching branches, his back to the trunk. Closing his eyes, Ichigo took slow and steady breaths.

 

He both did and did not want to think. Honestly, he was absolutely tired of thinking. His mind had been entirely occupied with events as of late. With Rukia and the children and Byakuya and circumstances. He was frustrated and worn thin, stuck playing the waiting game with his emotions on a zanpakutou's edge.

 

A faint surge of reiatsu. A tickling on his senses. And then, the world changed. Ichigo knew without having to open his eyes who had appeared in front of him. The wind, lightly pressing against his sides, had taken on a chilly note that it hadn't held before in the early summer heat.

 

“Ichigo,” a voice rumbled above him, a very familiar tone that he was used to hearing echo inside his head. His zanpakutou thrummed beside him.

 

He peeled open his eyes. Ossan appeared a little damp, water droplets speckling his dark glasses and a faint sheen to his black robes. The expression on Zangetsu's face was saddened, even with the sunglasses shielding his eyes.

 

“Ossan,” Ichigo greeted, one hand raising to the rub the back of his head. It didn't take a genius to figure out why Zangetsu had appeared. “It's a little wet, huh?”

 

Zangetsu didn't waver in the face of the obvious. “You're distressed,” he inferred, hands hidden in the voluminous folds of his robe and dark fabric ruffling around him.

 

Closing his eyes once more, Ichigo knocked his head against the trunk of the tree. “You could say that,” he answered with a mirthless laugh.

 

“Shirosaki often complains,” Zangetsu explained. “He doesn't like the cold.” Somehow, the way he spoke tended to sound like a chastisement. And perhaps it was.

 

Ichigo's fingers idly threaded through the grass beneath him and tugged at the green shoots. “I'm sorry,” he murmured, knowing that the melancholy he currently felt probably wasn't helping matters. “But it's not something that can easily be fixed.”

 

“I'm aware of that.”

 

He shook his head. “I know. I know. You're part of me and everything.” He popped open one eye, watching the spirit of his zanpakutou. “Did you come to offer advice, too?”

 

Zangetsu looked at him, cloak still rustling in an invisible breeze. “There is nothing I could tell you that you do not already know.”

 

In some ways, the Ossan reminded him of Urahara. It was annoying.

 

“As cryptic as always,” Ichigo replied with a snort. “I should have known.”

 

The look he received in return was half-bemused and half-sorrowful, if there even was such a thing. “You keep making decisions based on your children alone,” Zangetsu commented, voice a smooth baritone. “Have you even once considered your own happiness?”

 

“No such thing,” Ichigo answered and shifted against the bark of the tree. The heat was soaking into his skin and bones, making him feel lazy and relaxed for once. “Theirs is more important.” He idly considered a nap.

 

He could feel those eyes watching him and measuring him as always. “Maybe their smiles are linked to your own.”

 

Ichigo peered at Zangetsu, the spirit of his sword, who was essentially a part of him. “You agree with all the rumors?” he asked with a note of suspicion in his tone.

 

“I can accept some things that you seem unable to.”

 

The captain groaned. He knew that if Zangetsu believed in anything the masses were saying, then a part of Ichigo did too somewhere deep inside. He wasn't fooling anyone, not even himself. It was rather pathetic.

 

“The answers are there, Ichigo. If you look hard enough.”

 

He waved off Ossan with one hand, closing his eyes with the actual intention to nap now. He didn't want to think anymore. He just wanted to not do anything.

 

“Yeah, I know. Thanks, Zangetsu.”

 

There was no response as Zangetsu dissolved away with a faint pulse of reiatsu, back to Ichigo's inner mind. Where it was cold and damp, rain likely falling in endless monotony. He sent both Ossan and Shirosaki another silent apology.

 

His fatigue attacked him, making his muscles as strong as jelly. Before Ichigo knew it, he was being lulled by the quiet and the heat of the afternoon. He hadn't slept well in so long that it overcame him, and his breathing evened. He drifted away.

 

- - -

 

Byakuya stepped into the recreation area with a faint frown, warm summer wind tugging at his shihakushou and attempting to dampen his forehead with sweat. It was bright outside, despite the slowly descending sun. His gaze swept around the colorful vegetation and caught sight of empty benches in his attempts to find Ichigo.

 

After his conversation with Rukia the day before, he had subtly avoided his best friend in an attempt to come to terms with some of what she had told him. He still didn't quite want to admit any of her insinuations, but he at least wanted to let Ichigo know that he had done as the other captain had asked. However, in visiting the fifth division, Ayasegawa had informed him that Ichigo wasn't in.

 

The vice-captain had been on his way out the door, arms laden with signed documents and reports, likely to be taken to the administrative workers where they would be sorted and properly filed. Ayasegawa had explained that Ichigo was likely in his favorite hiding spot. A place that Ichigo believed no one knew about.

 

In any case, Ayasegawa's directions led him to the recreation area with hints to check near the back. Despite the fact that he wasn't particularly fond of playing fetch for anyone, Byakuya left in search of Ichigo. He didn't miss the knowing smirk on the vice-captain's face either, though he purposefully ignored commenting on it. Everyone in Soul Society was too damn nosy for their own good.

 

Pushing away thoughts of the flirty vice-captain's insinuations, Byakuya headed deeper into the park. He skirted around flower beds and took the small bridge over the tree. A scan with his senses gave him hints of captain-class reiatsu towards his left. He recognized the faint pulses as belonging to Ichigo. Ayasegawa had been right.

 

Swinging his gaze around and stepping into of a small grove of trees he couldn't begin to identify, Byakuya finally found his quarry. Ichigo was sitting at the base of a sakura, leaning against the trunk. He had one knee drawn up, single hand resting in his lap with the other casually resting on Zangetsu's hilt. His eyes were closed, head tilted to the side. And the constant but steady rhythm of his chest moving up and down announced his slumber.

 

Byakuya stopped a few feet away, a slight frown dipping his limbs. Ichigo looked peaceful for once, lines of worry erased from his face. Byakuya couldn't help but wonder how much sleep his friend had actually been getting lately. Obviously not enough if he was willing to fall asleep in the middle of nowhere with literally no protection around him except for his instincts. Which obviously weren't any good since Byakuya had approached with no problem. Unless Ichigo didn't even register him as something to be wary of. Except that headed into a whole flurry of Zaraki-insinuations that Byakuya wasn't about to touch.

 

It took several long seconds for Byakuya to realize that he had been standing and staring at his best friend for a time that had long passed simple curiosity and rapidly headed into something much, much deeper. Inwardly cursing at himself, he shook out of his wandering, rampant thoughts.

 

“Ichigo?” he questioned, loud enough to wake the other captain but not so loud that it would startle him into a battle-ready stance.

 

One orangish eyebrow twitched, fingers shifting ever-so-slightly around Zangetsu's hilt. He really was in a deep sleep. Much needed perhaps, but Byakuya wasn't going to let him sleep outside for the remainder of the evening. He decided to try something a bit more... forceful.

 

Byakuya took a deep breath and let out a firm but short burst of reiatsu, directing it towards the sleeping captain. It was strong enough that he knew anyone nearby would be able to sense, but it wasn't like he was deliberately trying to be stealthy anyway.

 

He knew the moment Ichigo felt it because his fingers curled around the hilt of Zangetsu before he even awoke. His eyes popped open, body tense and on alert as his own reiatsu rose in response, simmering around his body with intent to attack should the need arise. It took Ichigo only seconds to spot Byakuya in front of him.

 

He immediately calmed, pulling his reiatsu back into his body and relaxing his grip on his zanpakutou. “Byakuya,” Ichigo greeted, closing his eyes and knocking his head against the bark. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Looking for you,” the Kuchiki noble answered simply, wondering if Ichigo planned to go back to sleep.

 

The captain yawned and idly covered his mouth with his free hand. “How did you know to look here?” he asked and then raked fingers through his hair in an attempt to awaken fully.

 

“I was told that I am not to give out that information,” Byakuya answered, hearing Ayasegawa's cheerful voice in the back of his mind.

 

Ichigo opened his eyes, only to roll them in Byakuya's direction. “You? Keeping secrets? Should I watch for lightning strikes?”

 

Frowning, Byakuya tried to decipher the strange comment. Ichigo, noticing his confusion, simply waved him off.

 

“ Never mind.” With another yawn, he rose to his feet, reaching for Zangetsu and attaching the zanpakutou to his back once more. “Why were you looking for me?”

 

“Ayasegawa-fukutaichou was concerned about your disappearance,” Byakuya fibbed just a little. He didn't have a real reason to look for Ichigo, not one that didn't sound suspicious anyway.

 

Ichigo arched one brow. “And you decided to play fetch?”

 

“He seemed busy; I did not.”

 

He received another skeptical look that quickly melted away into confusion as Ichigo looked at the sky and then around. “What time is it?”

 

“Close to afternoon tea.”

 

“Damn, I slept that long?” Ichigo pondered aloud, gazing pointedly around them. He fell into line beside Byakuya as the two of them unconsciously headed out of the recreation area and towards the main compound.

 

Beside the noble, Ichigo visibly stretched, muscles and bones cracking in protest of his strange and awkward sleep position. Byakuya, purposefully not watching, steered into another subject.

 

“I spoke with Rukia.”

 

Ichigo stiffened for all of a moment before letting out a breath. “And?”

 

He considered his words carefully. “I have assured her that I will not abandon her, no matter what the Kuchiki say.”

 

A faint smile curled Ichigo's lips. “Good,” he said with a firm nod. “Nothing else?”

 

Rukia's voice repeated in Byakuya's mind, including her implications about his feelings and Ichigo's. He thought about Zaraki's own accusations. He remembered his own strange behaviors. Sneaking a glance at the other captain, he wondered if anything she had to say had any merit.

 

Even if it did, he wasn't going to say so aloud.

 

Byakuya shook his head, returning his attention back to the path in front of him. “Nothing of importance,” he told Ichigo, fibbing for the sake of a little white lie. “Nothing at all.”

 

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