Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Of Violence ❯ Of Longing ( Chapter 18 )

Of Violence

Chapter Sixteen: Of Longing

 

It was late, far past the time she should have gone home, but Rukia wasn't interested in heading back to her empty and quiet quarters. She was a mixture of unease and unhappiness at the moment and sought to bury both in piles of paperwork. If there was anything she could count on with certainty in the world was that there would always be mind-numbing documents to read, sign, stamp, and file.

 

She missed her children, probably even more so than she missed Ichigo, and that told her something. She knew that she would always love her husband, that her life would never feel quite right without him in it. But it was the absence of her children that bothered her more. She was missing so much of their lives, and it was tearing her up on the inside.

 

Ichigo let her see them whenever she wanted, but that wasn't the problem. She worried that if she visited too often, than they would hope she was coming home. But it killed her not to see them every day, to tuck them in at night or hear their stories when she came home from work. Every night, she returned to the silence of her quarters, to the coldness when her children weren't present.

 

Rukia knew that leaving them in Ichigo's custody was probably better. And it was entirely her fault. In pulling away to not hurt him anymore, she had hurt her entire family. It was a truth she had to bear.

 

Sighing, Rukia reached the bottom of the stack, which left her with nothing to do. And yet, she didn't feel a smidgen of accomplishment at her completed work. Her eyes flickered to the other sheaf of documents, ones what were patiently awaiting her signature for something of a more personal nature.

 

They had arrived yesterday, right before she had left for the day. At first, Rukia had been confused as to what would be inside such an official envelope. Until she had opened it and glanced at the header. It was then that a painful feeling had gripped her heart, and she had known exactly what they were. The divorce paperwork. Ichigo had prepared it, just as he had claimed.

 

Reaching out, she dragged the small bundle towards her. Rukia had already read them several times, back and forth. She could recite small portions if need be. There wasn't much to them. It was a mutual agreement. Ichigo would get the children. She could have whatever she wanted at the house. He wasn't going to fight her for anything. She could still visit whenever she wanted, set visitations weren't needed.

 

Rukia flipped through the pages, finding the places she needed to sign her name. There were only a few. An initial there. A date here. A signature on this line.

 

It seemed so damn simple. Yet, it was anything but. It was her, giving up her husband and her marriage. Giving up forty years of her life.

 

Thinking back, she couldn't remember when it had started. She didn't know the first time that she had hit him out of anger and not out of amused exasperation. But she could recall the very moment she had struck him and realized exactly what she had done.

 

She had been yelling at him for something inane. She wasn't sure what exactly it was now. And it more likely than not wasn't anything to be angry about. She had called him an idiot, had said some other things. And he had been angry, too. She could remember the furrows in his brow, remember the frustration painted onto his face and the firm set to his shoulders.

 

And then, she remembered hitting him. Slapping him across the face, hard enough that it echoed in their bedroom. She had been able to feel the tingle in her palm, the twitching of her fingers.

 

The argument - if it could even be called that - had halted then and there. His words had died in his throat; hers had already finished their echo. She had gotten in the last after all.

 

She remembered looking at him, catching his eyes, her chest heaving in anger and fingers balling into fists. Ready to strike again. It was the look in his eyes, the emotions, that made her catch herself. Made her see something she knew she would never forget again.

 

A mix of confusion and hurt and betrayal and love. It had all been there, swirling in his eyes. He hadn't lifted a hand back against her, hadn't said anything to counter whatever she had thrown at him. Hadn't even reached up to touch his face where a red mark was beginning to show.

 

He had simply turned away and left the room. She could vaguely remember one of their children calling for him, probably Kaien.

 

At the time, she had only stared into space, her hand slowly falling down. She hadn't been able to believe she had actually done that and stared at her palm. Recalling the sound and the sights. Rukia had been struck with several realizations, and she told herself then and there, never again.

 

Never again.

 

But a week later, it had happened once more. And then again. And after that. Until she hadn't been able to stop herself. The anger had just continued to build, and so she forced the distance, forced a space between them.

 

She had kept telling herself, `Let everything settle. Let me return to work. Let the twins get a little older. Let the thirteenth settle down. And then, everything will be just fine.'

 

Let. Let. Let.

 

And in the end, it came into the public eye before anything had changed. The fault was her own; she understood that entirely. But still, it hurt. She kept thinking that if it had never come out, would they have made it? If no one ever knew, would she have ever been able to stop?

 

It was those questions that drove her hesitation.

 

Her fingers curled tighter around the brush, and she stared at the papers until the kanji blurred in front of her eyes. All she had to do was sign to let him go. Write her name on the divorce papers as easily as it had been to sign the marriage certificate.

 

He still loved her, Rukia knew this. And she still loved him. The feelings were still there, but they were hidden now. Buried beneath her actions and the rumors and other emotions that were now cropping up. She could see it every time she visited. They were two steps closer to understand and to realizing. She knew it in the way Ichigo had apologized to her. Something he couldn't entirely be blamed for.

 

She loved him still. But it was time to let go. She couldn't hit him anymore, and after all this mess, she had seen the light. There was no way they could go back. She couldn't change the past. It was better for him. It was better for the children. It was better in the end.

 

Biting her lip, Rukia dipped her brush into the ink and held it over the last page and the line that was marked visibly on the bottom. With careful strokes, she signed her name, pretending not to notice the droplets that stained the paper. It was only one she needed to sign after all. No one would notice the slightly blurred ink.

 

It was the hardest thing she had ever written. And when the last stroke fell, so did the brush, off to the side where it wouldn't mark up the rest of the papers. She felt exhausted and drained, heart heavy.

 

With great care, she blew on the ink until it dried and then folded up the papers. Rukia sealed them into an envelope, feeling as if she were saying goodbye. In the morning, she would drop it off at the proper place.

 

It was the last thing she did before crashing for the night. In the morning, she would leave for the first of many lengthy scouting missions as Ukitake-taichou had ordered. She wouldn't be able to see the children for a couple of weeks and would probably miss the birth of Orihime's first child. Even more disheartening was the chance that she might miss her daughter's birthday, though she was going to try her best to be present. But the way her luck was holding, it would be one of many failures to add to her list.

 

The last thing she noticed as she closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep was just how very cold it was in her bed.

 

- -

 

The brush swiping over parchment was very soothing, very repetitive, and very good for letting his mind wander. Byakuya could have been writing a grocery list, not that he did the shopping, for all that he knew. He simply didn't care at the moment. All he wanted was for his mind to be carefully blank and not surprising him with revelation after revelation.

 

Or sneaky Zaraki voices either.

 

It was safe in his writing. Safe from accusations and the confusion inside his own heart. Away from the painful drama and the feeling of complete and utter helplessness.

 

“What're you doing?”

 

The innocent query made him start, the voice feeling much like an invader despite the familiarity. Byakuya gently set down his brush and glanced over his shoulder, spotting his niece in the doorway of his study. He turned, and a smile flitted onto his lips.

 

“Nothing important,” he assured her.

 

She took his answer as permission to enter, and Syaoran immediately crawled into his lap with no prompt needed. He lifted a hand to smooth down her hair, which she wore loose for once.

 

“What about you, hime?” Byakuya asked softly.

 

She shrugged, squirming to get comfortable. “Tou-chan fell asleep, so I'm bored now,” Syaoran answered, words accompanied by a yawn of her own, which she demurely covered with her fingers.

 

Byakuya lifted a brow. Ichigo asleep? Was he truly that tired?

 

His brother-in-law hadn't even worked that day, having taken the day off and choosing to spend it at Byakuya's home. Not that he hadn't been invited. It had coincidentally been Byakuya's day off as well, and the Kuchiki heir suspected someone had planned that.

 

He tilted his head to the side. “Where?”

 

“In the playroom,” Syaoran answered a bit sleepily, curling closer to him.

 

Again, he noted her unusually clinging behavior. Rising to his feet with little difficulty, Byakuya easily tucked her weight into his arms as though she were merely Senbonzakura or his scarf.

 

“It sounds like you want a nap as well, hime,” he responded with a light chuckle.

 

“Not really,” she countered with the same denial in her voice that Byakuya had heard Kaien use before.

 

He found it somewhat amusing. They, he and Ichigo, had just laid the twins down for their afternoon nap an hour ago. It was a gray day, chilly and wet with the lingering summer storms that tended to make everyone lethargic. And it seemed to have infected the whole household.

 

Byakuya walked through his mostly silent home, Syaoran hitched on one hip. It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, and he couldn't help but notice that fact. For the moment, all the stress seemed to be on the back of his mind.

 

Down the hall and to the right, he found the playroom, something he'd never thought he would have reason to use. It had been there since he had married Hisana but never with any occupants. Now, it was nearly overflowing with the many toys and books and games that the children had collected and left at his house. Spoiled they were, the entire lot of them.

 

He stepped inside, first catching sight of Kaien, who was quietly gathering up the remnants of whatever he had been playing. Perhaps he and Syaoran had been getting along for once. Byakuya then found Ichigo, curled up on his side on the floor of all places. And like Syaoran had claimed, her father fast asleep. One arm was folded under his head, the other curled close to his body.

 

Dark blue eyes looked up at his entrance. “Tou-san fell asleep,” Kaien said in a low voice, amused by Ichigo's behavior. He snuck a glance at his father. “Just like an old man.”

 

Byakuya shook his head at Kaien's comment, but before he could even speak, Syaoran was quick to chide her brother.

 

“Be quiet, Kaien,” she scolded, her own tone sleepy and slightly congested. “Tou-chan's just tired.” She curled closer to her uncle's warmth and laid her head on his shoulder.

 

Kaien shrugged, and more pieces joined the box with an audible clatter. “He's always tired,” the boy returned, and there was a hint of something in his tone. Something that Byakuya knew would have to be addressed soon. Kaien was most definitely sulking.

 

Byakuya knew that he should probably stop them and the pending argument, but he found himself hesitating. He was discovering more about Ichigo in this moment than he would ever ask Ichigo himself.

 

“Is that so?” he prompted, keeping his voice low so as not to awaken the sleeping man.

 

Syaoran nodded. “He doesn't sleep much. Just sits on the porch and thinks a lot.” She then directed a scowl at her brother that was clearly disapproving. “So you shouldn't make fun of him, Kaien.” Her voice rose with her chastisement.

 

Byakuya was quick to shush her. “You don't want to wake your tou-san, do you?” he questioned, already moving to the door. “Come, Kaien. You two can play in another room. Let your tou-san sleep.”

 

In the midst of glaring at his sister, Kaien merely nodded and abandoned his half-hearted cleaning, rising to his feet. He followed after his uncle and Syaoran but not before scooping up some toy from the floor.

 

The captain took them to the drawing room just down the hall, telling them to play quietly until he returned. He promised to play a game with them or read, whichever they preferred. Byakuya only hoped that they wouldn't be arguing by the time that he came back. He stopped in briefly to check on the twins and found them still sleeping peacefully.

 

Byakuya returned to the playing room, not surprised to find that Ichigo hadn't even moved. In fact, in the short absence, the frown lines in his forehead had smoothed out, proving that he was in a deep sleep for once. Byakuya was loathe to wake him, aware that the rest was probably something that his friend needed.

 

Yet, Ichigo couldn't possibly be comfortable on the floor. Not like that. He didn't dare move him either. Otherwise, he would wake and then refuse to lie down again. He would be angry at himself for falling asleep and then stubbornly force himself to stay awake.

 

He really did know Ichigo all too well, didn't he?

 

“And you're in love with him.”

 

“We can all see it. Everyone but you two.”

 

“Why bother denying what you know is already true? The only one you are lying to is yourself.”

 

“But he loves you more.”

 

Their words echoed in his head, and Byakuya felt something inside of him freeze. His hands curled into fists. And he stared and watched his best friend, the man he loved, sleep.

 

“It can't be,” he whispered to himself, but it even sounded flat and false to him. He wasn't even fooling himself any more, and that was just pathetic.

 

Byakuya whirled on his heels, seeking the safety of the hallway and a search for a blanket. Oh, he could easily ask any one of the servants to find one for him, but he needed the time to collect himself. To stop the sudden sweat his body had broken into and to ease the rapid beating of his heart.

 

A quick circuit around his manor, and he eventually found the linen closet. He dug around for a bit, found a decent blanket, and brought his choice back to where he had left Ichigo. His best friend still hadn't moved. Byakuya carefully draped it over Ichigo's body, the other man instantly curling against the added warmth to get comfortable. He looked so much younger when he was asleep, Byakuya noticed. Some of the lines fading away as if they weren't meant to be there at all. He more resembled the uppity brat who had burst into Soul Society all those years ago to rescue his condemned friend.

 

He could still remember that boy, the days when everything had been simpler. And Byakuya's own heart yearned for Ichigo to be happy again. This whole situation was really taking its toll on him, aging him beyond his years.

 

Ichigo deserved to be happy, and Byakuya knew that if he had the power to grant it, he would do whatever it took to ensure that his best friend smiled again. A real smile, not the fake one he showed everyone to prove that he was handling the stress just fine. He wasn't. Not if he wasn't sleeping. Ichigo was only hanging on by a thin thread borne from Kurosaki determination.

 

Something in Byakuya's heart stuttered in that very moment. Skipped several beats until he wasn't certain it was going find its rhythm again. He was struck with a very frightening realization, one that he wasn't ever going to admit aloud to anyone. Ever.

 

Zaraki Kenpachi was right.

 

He was hopelessly in love with his brother-in-law. And no matter how much he wanted to deny it, Byakuya couldn't ignore the truth inside of him. Somewhere along the way, when he hadn't been looking, he had fallen for his best friend.

 

There was no point in pretending anymore, in lying to himself. And what an absolute great time this was to have this revelation.

 

He forced himself to take a step back, a safe distance from the vulnerability that Ichigo didn't even know he was exuding. And then, he went even further. He left the room and headed back to the drawing room, where he could distract himself with Kaien and Syaoran. There was nothing he could do about it. Nothing he would. Byakuya was not so callous a man that he would stride right in when Ichigo was at his weakest and seek his affections.

 

Only he would fall for someone so unattainable. He refused to hurt Rukia like that or Ichigo either. He didn't want his actions called into question; he didn't want Ichigo to suffer another scandal. No matter what everyone else kept implying. This was something he had to keep to himself.

 

Senbonzakura was right. He had been afraid. Byakuya knew that if he admitted it to himself, he would be giving credence to an attraction that would never lead to anything. And that was just as painful as knowing it could never be returned.

 

Byakuya swallowed hard as he sat down next to the children. He greeted them vaguely and sat in silence as they played, head half-bowed. Thoughts churning in his head. Stomach twisting into knots. Throat dry and tight.

 

Sometime later, when Byakuya was just starting to relax, the door to the room slid open.

 

“Kuchiki-sama?”

 

He looked up from the game, which Syaoran was about to win, and found Kuina standing in the doorway. “Yes?”

 

She bowed. “Dinner has been prepared and is set out in the dining room. It awaits your convenience.”

 

Kaien leapt to his feet, pumping one fist into the air. “Finally!” he declared, the motion accompanied by the grumbling of his belly.

 

His uncle quickly shot him a disapproving look. “Composure, Kaien,” he reminded the boy as he rose to his feet and slowly dusted off his kimono. “Thank you, Kuina. Will you please prepare the children for dinner?”

 

“Of course, Kuchiki-sama.”

 

Helping Syaoran to her feet with an offered hand, Byakuya prodded them towards Kuina. “Behave for Kuina. I need to wake your tou-san.”

 

“Hai!” they chirped in unison and darted after her.

 

Convinced they would be fine for the few minutes, he turned down the hall in the opposite direction and headed back to the playroom. A curl of something made its way through his insides. Was it going to be like that every time he saw Ichigo? This unnameable something wriggling in his belly?

 

He paused in the doorway and looked in, as though stepping over the threshold meant something important. Ichigo had hardly moved, except for one arm, reaching out to the side as if groping for a warmth that wasn't there. It was a scene that nearly broke his heart.

 

It was unfair of Ichigo to do that, tug on Byakuya's heartstrings when he wasn't even conscious. He had already captured the stoic Kuchiki's heart. What more did he want?

 

Taking a breath, Byakuya walked into the room and knelt beside the sleeping man, settling a purely innocent hand on his shoulder. “Ichigo. Wake up,” he urged with a careful shake. He would have liked to let him sleep, but Ichigo probably hadn't been eating very well either.

 

The younger man stirred almost immediately, a low groan of disappointment escaping him. “Nnnn. Byakuya?”

 

“Hai,” he answered as Ichigo's eyes opened and narrowed against the harshness of the light, blinking sleepily.

 

He shifted to his back, hand rising to cover his forehead, before his gaze moved to Byakuya. His eyes were dark pools that did nothing to hide the prevalent sadness. A mere look was enough to clench Byakuya's heart, whose hand curled into a fist at his side, well out of Ichigo's sight. He had fallen hard, just as he had for Hisana. A fool all over again.

 

“I fell asleep?” Ichigo questioned, voice slurred as he drew up one leg, causing the blanket to fall away from him.

 

Byakuya nodded. “Yes. And now, it's time for dinner.”

 

The other captain appeared to be digesting this, brow furrowing in thought. His fingers slid down from his forehead, and then, he was looking at Byakuya, who belatedly realized he still hadn't removed his traitorous hand.

 

It happened slowly, but to Byakuya it felt as if it happened too quickly for him to even realize. Ichigo's hand slid up, curled around his neck, and dragged him down. He knew that he could and probably should resist. But he was drawn towards Ichigo as though he had no will to do anything but abide by what his best friend wanted. That unstoppable Kurosaki force.

 

It was far from the stuff fairy tales were made of. Ichigo had morning breath, and Byakuya was in an odd position, precariously balanced. Their lips touched, and Byakuya was filled with the overwhelmingly unusual feeling of kissing a man, a man that was his brother-in-law and best friend, who he had inadvertently fallen in love with. It knocked all sense of reason from his mind and left him with a stunned sort of immobility that prevented him from reacting properly until after Ichigo had pulled away.

 

And then, it was instinct.

 

He followed Ichigo's lips, capturing them before he could fully get away. Showing that yes, he had wanted it. And dammit, he had just been taken by surprise. His hand hit the ground, providing a balance so it was that much less awkward.

 

The second kiss was just a bit sweeter. His fingers clenching against the polished floor and the blanket as if to stop himself from touching Ichigo and taking it further than necessary. It was safer, much safer that way. This sudden hunger surprised even himself.

 

Byakuya ended the kiss without ever introducing his tongue, and for a moment, the two of them were looking at each other. Ichigo's face was a mixture of surprise and understanding, and Byakuya was certain the look on his own must have resembled absolute terror and complete longing.

 

How ironic.

 

The realization that he loved Ichigo came to him in a manner of seconds, and then, within a few hours, Ichigo took it upon himself to introduce a kiss. That damned Kurosaki sense of recklessness, he supposed. Catching him when he was off guard and sending him reeling as usual. Byakuya didn't think he would ever get used to it, and honestly, he didn't want to.

 

Licking his lips, as if to savor the sensation, he looked at Ichigo. The younger man was staring back, equally unflinching.

 

“Why?” Byakuya found himself asking before he entirely realized what he was questioning.

 

After all, Byakuya knew why he had kissed Ichigo. But did Ichigo know why he had kissed Byakuya? Was it instinct? A calling for comfort? A need to be wanted? He had to know that he wasn't just there, a shoulder to lean on that would vanish once everything was okay. He had to know it was real and not a consequence of circumstance.

 

“Because it's you,” Ichigo responded simply and without missing a single beat.

 

The dazed expression on Byakuya's face, one that spoke of both surprise and confusion, must have prompted Ichigo to clarify. He smiled gently, a true smile that Byakuya had just vowed to see again.

 

“It's always been you, and somehow… I hadn't noticed it before. I guess that I really am an idiot.”

 

He wasn't the only one either. And Byakuya flushed at the memory of just how foolish he had been.

 

“That makes two of us,” he muttered, thinking of a certain captain who was currently cackling in the back of his brain. “It took Zaraki to point it out for me.” He shifted in embarrassed recollection. “He felt it necessary to inform me of my apparent attraction.”

 

“Kenpachi, hmm?” Ichigo repeated, and his eyes shifted to the side before widening in amusement. His gaze darted back to Byakuya, a hint of teasing in its depths. “Is that why you punched him?”

 

He was a Kuchiki; he did not blush. And yet, the heat threatening to rise in his cheeks certainly tried to prove otherwise.

 

“Partially,” Byakuya admitted, keeping to himself the voice in the back of his head. He didn't want Ichigo to think he was crazy.

 

Not that it really mattered. And before the conversation continued any further, they were kissing again; he wasn't sure who moved first. Whether it was himself or Ichigo who initiated the third engagement of lips.

 

All he knew was that Ichigo was kissing him with more determination this time, less cautious and anxious testing. Byakuya all too eagerly returned the hunger, finally introducing a tongue into the mix and tasting the strange mix of flavors he could now associate with Ichigo.

 

All the fluttering in his belly, the confused coiling, ceased when they kissed. And he finally understood why he had been so ill at ease, why just the mere glance at his best friend could make him feel so oddly. It was like seeing Hisana for the first time all over again. Only Ichigo didn't need saving. He could take care of himself. But that didn't mean Byakuya couldn't be there to help.

 

Outside the room, footsteps pattered on the wooden floor. A spike of small, but growing in power every day, reiatsu surged their direction. Kaien. And Syaoran as well, by the feel of it. Hastily, the two men separated, not wanting to be caught in such an awkward position by children who would definitely have questions.

 

The Kuchiki heir thrust himself to his feet, situating the folds of his kimono that hadn't really moved as Ichigo stood and gathered up the blanket. He mindlessly folded it, wanting to say something, but unsure what he needed to say. It had been pure impulse to kiss Byakuya like that, something he had realized he wanted to do but hadn't thought to enact until just then.

 

He didn't regret it. No, far from it. Ichigo was glad that he had done so because it only confirmed what he had already suspected. He was in love with his best friend, his wife's only brother. Probably had been as long as everyone else had believed. And Rukia had known.

 

Ichigo couldn't just go jumping headlong into a new relationship. Not when he still longed for her. He hadn't known it was possible up until that point. But now, his heart was tugging in two directions. The wife who was all too ready to end their marriage, and the best friend who was as equally confused as he. His realization certainly hadn't made things any easier.

 

Before he could speak, if he had even found the words, Kaien and Syaoran appeared in the doorway. They immediately set sight on their uncle and father.

 

“Tou-san!” they said in unison. “Oji-san! It's time for dinner.”

 

A gentle smile curling his lips, Ichigo laid the blanket on the back of a chair and stepped forward. “I know,” he said and patted Kaien's head. “Were you that hungry?”

 

The boy scowled and reached up to fix his coif. “Of course. And you were sleeping, so I was bored, too! You promised to spar with me!”

 

“I'm sorry.” Ichigo winced internally because Kaien was right. He had promised. “I'll make it up to you.”

 

He glanced over his shoulder where Byakuya was already taking Syaoran's hands, the little girl looking up at her uncle with shining eyes. He caught Byakuya's gaze and something unspoken passed between them.

 

They would talk about this later. But for the moment, their attention was redirected to the children as Kaien spoke again, dragging his father back to the conversation.

 

It was time for dinner.

 

- -

 

“It seems like it has been a long time since we have been able to sit and talk like this,” Jyuushiro commented, dark eyes watching Kaien and Syaoran as they played in the back garden. In his lap, Ryuu rested comfortably, watching his “grandfather” with much interest.

 

Jyuushiro had stopped by early that morning to bring back Ryuu and Mikan, who he had watched the night before. He was dressed in his shihakushou and captain's haori and had only a short time to visit before heading into the office. Still, he was going to make the most of it and carry a conversation with Ichigo.

 

Tiny hands grasped onto Ichigo's fingers, squeezing and releasing as though testing something. “There hasn't exactly been opportunity,” Ichigo replied with a smile at Mikan as she sat in his lap.

 

“Yes,” Jyuushiro agreed with a faint nod, brushing his hair out of his face. “We've both been very busy, especially now that my division has picked up extra patrols.”

 

Ichigo had nearly forgotten about those in the wake of everything else. He probed his mind for information but couldn't think of anything. He only vaguely recalled that some strange Hollows had been sighted. That was the extent of his knowledge.

 

“Have you found anything?”

 

Jyuushiro shook his head negatively. “Not yet. A few small creatures but nothing of any particular concern. I can't say whether that is blessing or curse.”

 

A touch of worry for Rukia entered his heart. Knowing her, she had probably volunteered to lead the more dangerous missions, not wanting to put her subordinates at risk. It was a trait that had always worried Ichigo, even if he had the habit of doing the same himself.

 

His gaze shifted to his children, who he still hadn't told about his decision to separate from Rukia. With the papers sitting in his office and the knowledge that Rukia had already signed hers, it was becoming more of a necessity to discuss. Something he needed to do soon. However, just like his signature, he kept pushing it aside.

 

Much like his realization about Byakuya and his feelings for the man. Unfortunately, they hadn't had opportunity to speak since that day, both of them entirely embroiled in work and the children. No more than a week had passed, and still, Ichigo couldn't find the words he wanted to speak.

 

The realization came easily enough. Admitting it to himself even simpler. But knowing what to do, how to react and where to go from there, that was the hard part. He wanted to be with Rukia. He wanted to be with Byakuya. He just wanted everyone to be happy, for his children to no longer worry.

 

Or maybe the problem was that he didn't really know what he wanted, and so he lingered, standing on the line and waiting for one choice or the other to seem superior. Ichigo really wasn't sure. The only thing he knew for certain was that he missed his wife and thinking of Byakuya made him feel calm and at ease. Being around the other man warmed him from the inside, chasing away all the madness. Understanding him in a way Rukia never had.

 

With a firm shake of his head, Ichigo forced himself away from the circuitous thoughts and back to the conversation at hand. He racked his brain to recall what Jyuushiro had last said, and ironically, he found himself holding the same opinion as the older captain.

 

“Neither can I,” he responded a bit distractedly.

 

Hollows would mean battle. But they would also mean danger for others, including those who couldn't defend themselves.

 

“Do you know if Rukia will be able to return in time for Syaoran's birthday later this week?” he asked, the question bothering him for some time now.

 

Jyuushirou inclined his head. “I will make certain of it,” he declared quietly. “She will certainly be able to spare a few hours for it.”

 

“Thank you,” Ichigo responded, instantly feeling a bit of tension ease for that. Syaoran had been concerned she wouldn't be able to see her mother, though she had hid it well.

 

Dark eyes watched him searchingly. Jyuushiro could tell that he was a man conflicted, and he breathed deeply. He didn't have long before he was supposed to be in the office, but Jyuushiro was still glad for this opportunity to speak with Ichigo. In taking care of Rukia, he hadn't been able to find time for her husband, his own protégé. But now, he had the chance, and he was going to take it.

 

“Ichigo.”

 

The lost gaze focused once more, turning back his direction. It was a wordless encouragement to speak.

 

Jyuushiro smiled gently. “I know that I'm not your father.” He paused, and a short chuckle escaped him before he continued, “No matter how much you wish it were so. But I do think of you as a son. And I do want you to be happy. I want you and Rukia both to be happy. As you are now, neither of you ever will be.”

 

“I know,” came the response, and Ichigo's eyes dropped to his daughter, who was giggling in his arms. His face eased with love for his children, but there was still an aura of tense confusion around him. “But I've never made a habit of letting go.”

 

Jyuushiro knew that all too well. It was a trait Ichigo had shown time and time again during the war against Aizen.

 

“So I noticed,” he mused aloud. “Sometimes, however, there's nothing left to fight against or for. And you end up struggling simply for the sake of doing so.”

 

Silence reigned between them as Ichigo absorbed Jyuushiro's words. A warm wind stirred, bringing with it the fresh scent of the last of summer's blooms. Fall was slowly seeping its way into the weather, bringing with it the chill of rain and the fading color of the leaves.

 

Jyuushiro breathed deeply and enjoyed the somewhat peaceful moment. He would let Ichigo digest as long as he needed. He knew from experience that pushing anyone Kurosaki was useless.

 

“I kissed Byakuya.”

 

He nearly choked. Blinking, Jyuushiro turned his attention completely on Ichigo. It wasn't that Ichigo's action was completely unexpected, but the way he had just come out and said it had surprised Jyuushiro.

 

Gentle fingers teased his daughter, Mikan giggling as she tried to capture the calloused digits. “And I'm only telling you because I know you won't be surprised,” Ichigo continued, oblivious to the confused blinking of the man next to him. “Everyone in Soul Society seems to find it amusing, how little I actually know about my own feelings.” There was a trace of irritation in Ichigo's tone, as though recalling something that only annoyed him.

 

Jyuushiro carefully chose his next words. “I wouldn't say amusing,” he began slowly. “But many of us were aware that your affections were not limited to Rukia, even if you never acknowledged those emotions.”

 

“Yeah, well, it's not really something I thought to realize. I love Rukia; that hasn't changed, but now...” He paused, searching for the proper words. “Now, I know that I love him, too.”

 

Jyuushiro shifted Ryuu's weight in his arms, rocking the calm twin, whose eyes were fluttering in the lazy warmth. “Understandable. Have you decided what you are going to do?”

 

The other man shook his head, wincing faintly. “I haven't even signed the papers yet, Jyuushiro. They're still sitting on my desk, covered with excuses.”

 

“Rukia has signed them?”

 

Another moment of heavy silence followed Jyuushiro's query. Ichigo's attention seemed to be caught by Kaien and Syaoran. The former's face filled with a strange sort of concentration as he practiced swinging his bokken, the latter humming under her breath as she tried to catch a butterfly.

 

“Yes,” Ichigo finally answered, and their eyes met. “I'm stupid for hanging on like this, aren't I? When she's already given up?”

 

It was such a delicate situation, and Jyuushiro again found himself being careful in how he spoke.

 

“I wouldn't say it was foolish,” he stated. “But I would say that it is painful. You cannot heal if you keep forcing the wound to open.”

 

Ichigo laughed, a sharp barking sound that was filled with restrained hurt. “For all your honesty, you can be quite crafty, Jyuushiro,” he commented with a shake of his head. “Your method of giving advice without straight up suggesting anything puts the geta-boushi to shame.”

 

He couldn't help but smirk at that; he had been caught so easily. “How else do you think I have put up with Shunsui all these years?” Jyuushiro straightened with the intention of imitating himself, putting on a stern yet cheerful face. “Shun, it is far easier to sleep on one's desk when it is clear of paperwork. Or… it would be a pity if you failed to woo that fair lady because of too much alcohol.” He chuckled.

 

The amusement in Ichigo's expression deepened, some of the aura of disquieting emotions around him seeming to dissipate. “I can just about imagine.”

 

Dark eyes watched the other captain for a minute more before Jyuushiro decided he had said all that he had come to say. “I apologize for cutting my visit short, but I do have to be in the office soon.” He carefully handed a quiescent Ryuunosuke to his father.

 

“I know,” Ichigo responded, taking his son easily so that both twins shared his lap. “Thank you for watching them.”

 

Mikan seemed to protest what had been hers alone for a short time and kicked out at her brother. Only half-paying attention, Ichigo easily separated the two with the sort of intuition only a father held, bopping Mikan gently on the nose with a murmured “share.”

 

Jyuushiro watched this exchange with bemusement as he rose to his feet, patting down his haori and putting on his dignified captain's appearance. “Anytime. You know that, Ichigo.” One hand went to his good-as-son's shoulder and squeezed tightly.

 

“I do.”

 

He shifted his attention to Kaien and Syaoran, watching his grandchildren play for a few minutes longer. They longed reasonably content, or they could have been pretending for the sake of not worrying their father. Ichigo's children were far too perceptive and intelligent for their own good sometimes. Jyuushiro wouldn't put it past them.

 

Still, the moment seemed peaceful enough. Quiet and calm. Away from the madness that was slowly beginning to fade.

 

He had one more piece of advice to offer.

 

“I wouldn't think to tell you what to do, Ichigo,” Jyuushiro inserted quietly. “But I do hope you realize that what you want will not be realized unless you make your decision. For you and your children.”

 

It was another one of those enigmatic suggestions. Yet, it still managed to make Ichigo smile.

 

“I do. And thanks. For everything, sensei.”

 

Jyuushiro blinked and cleared his throat. His wisdom therefore imparted, Jyuushiro murmured a sincere goodbye and excused himself to his duties, leaving the Kurosaki family minus one to their playtime. He could only hope that Ichigo took his words to heart.

 

He loved his lieutenant and her husband dearly, but until both of them moved on, neither would be happy. There wouldn't be a chance to discover anything else. And he hoped to see a smile in both of their faces in the future, however near or far that was.

 

For both their sakes.

 

- - - -