Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Of Violence ❯ Chapter 18: Of Reconciliation ( Chapter 20 )

Of Violence

Chapter Eighteen: Of Reconciliation

 

After living next door to the clinic for his entire life before moving to Soul Society, Ichigo figured he should have been used to the sounds of a hospital. To the rush of healers beyond the room, the beeping of equipment, and the odd quiet within every occupied or unoccupied room. He should be used to the astringent odor, the unnecessarily bright lights, and the cloud of worry that hung like a bad stench in the atmosphere.

 

But things that he should have been used to were a lot different when his children were involved. Even though he knew Syaoran was eventually going to recover, he still worried. And he still sat at his daughter's bedside, watching her sleep peacefully, breathing even and strong. The guilt tugged at him again, and he felt the urge to berate himself, though he kept quiet to keep from waking her.

 

He really was a terrible father. He had spent most of the past several days in the fourth division, staying at Syaoran's side whenever possible. And if he wasn't there, then Jyuushiro or Izuru or someone important to her was. He refused to let his daughter stay there alone.

 

Ichigo's gaze traveled to the other bed in the room, where Kaien was sprawled across the mattress and snoring softly. His son was half-buried under his covers, one leg stuck out over the side. Shaking his head, Ichigo rose to his feet and situated Kaien more comfortably, a small noise of protest escaping the young boy before he fell back into slumber.

 

His lips tugging into a faint smile, Ichigo affectionately brushed his fingers over sleep-tousled black hair. Kaien didn't stir, already lost to the depths of slumber. A noise in the doorway disturbed him from contemplations that were begging to begin, and Ichigo glanced over his shoulder. He caught sight of Byakuya standing there, a question on his face.

 

The noble had been caring for the twins since Ichigo had asked him to all those days ago, and while he'd had some occasion to see Syaoran in the fourth, he'd been more than busy picking up some of the slack that Ichigo had dropped to be there for his daughter. Which included helping Yumichika if Ichigo's vice-captain needed it.

 

With those eyes on him, Ichigo turned away from Kaien and walked silently to the door. Understanding passed between the two men and they met in the hallway, just outside the room. Voices were kept low in hopes to not wake the children.

 

“How is she doing?” Byakuya asked, his first question full of concern for his niece. His gaze lingered towards the room, worry reflected.

 

He had been watching Ichigo for longer than it had seemed and had only made the faint noise to attract the other captain's attention. Worry for Syaoran had intermingled with worry for Ichigo, until Byakuya's own insides felt as though they were twisting into knots. He was relieved to see that she seemed to be recovering, though the pain in her father's expression was unsettling.

 

Ichigo sighed. And the bevy of emotion in that simple sound made Byakuya's own heart clench.

 

“She's going to be here for at least a week. Isane doesn't want to risk her having a relapse. But other than that, Syaoran will be just fine. No thanks to me.”

 

Grey eyes shifted back to the younger man. “Ichigo--”

 

He was interrupted by Ichigo shaking his head negatively. “I didn't notice that my little girl was getting sick, Byakuya. Don't try to tell me it's not my fault.” He sagged against the doorframe, the fatigue lining his eyes suddenly looking that much deeper.

 

The urge to embrace Ichigo rose up strongly then as he looked in desperate need of comfort. But Byakuya hesitated. They were in the hallway of the busy fourth division where anyone and everyone would be watching, and Byakuya didn't want Ichigo to suffer from more damaging rumors. Not to mention they hadn't discussed their relationship, and he didn't want to overstep any boundaries.

 

What would he have done before his revelation? Byakuya never had been that good at comforting. Words always failed him and kept others at arm's length, prevented physical actions.

 

“Then… I won't,” Byakuya responded quietly. “But I do think it would be better if you were strong for her rather than blaming yourself. She was only trying to protect you.”

 

“She's too young to think about protecting anyone,” Ichigo muttered, head turned back towards the room. “Much less her own father.”

 

“She is a Kurosaki. It is only to be expected.” He felt his lips lift in a small smile. “They do have the habit of being stubborn.”

 

The pulse of guilt and concern in Ichigo's reiatsu lessened as he shifted his gaze towards Byakuya, suddenly pinning the noble with knowing eyes. “Sometimes a bit too hard-headed, ne?”

 

He was rewarded by an ever-so-subtle flush to Byakuya's cheeks. It was something no one else but he would have noticed, having become well-learned in the art of Byakuya-reading.

 

“Yes, sometimes,” the older captain agreed, and the knowledge of their new realizations simmered the air between them.

 

Ichigo was well aware that they hadn't had chance to sit and discuss what had been discovered. That he hadn't had opportunity to ask Byakuya what he wanted or to explain that he didn't quite know what he wanted either. Ichigo knew that he had the urge to kiss Byakuya every chance he saw him, and that he still felt comfortable in the other man's presence. But Ichigo was also aware that he had just emerged from a difficult separation where feelings were still lingering for his wife. And he couldn't just throw at his children a new parent, even if they were used to their Byakuya-oji-san's presence.

 

Clearing his throat, Ichigo shifted his thoughts. “Where are the twins?” he asked, a logical question considering he knew Byakuya had been caring for them last.

 

“Tohru has them for now. I wanted to see Syaoran.”

 

Relieved though he hadn't been too concerned to begin with since he trusted Byakuya, Ichigo managed a light grin. The pair of them entered the little girl's room, sitting on either side of her sleeping form.

 

“She'll be happy that you visited,” Ichigo said in a soft tone, a hint of teasing creeping into his voice. “I know how much she idolizes her Byakuya-oji-san.”

 

Seeming to catch onto the usual banter between them, a sparkle of humor danced in his eyes. “That is because she plans to be my heir,” he replied, and if it was just a bit smugly, both men noticed.

 

Ichigo chuckled, careful not to wake his daughter as he rolled his eyes. “Tell a little girl that she can be a princess, and she'll agree to do anything, you manipulator.”

 

“The Kuchiki have no need to manipulate. Others are simply naturally inclined to accept our suggestions,” Byakuya countered and lifted his head primly in a motion that was definitely familiar to Ichigo.

 

He pointed a finger Byakuya's direction. “And that's where she gets it from,” he decided, gesturing towards the expression on the noble's face. “All that uppity-ness is from you.”

 

“I haven't the slightest idea what you are talking about,” Byakuya responded, but not even he could hide the twitching of his lips in amusement.

 

It felt just like old times.

 

Ichigo snorted and cast him a disbelieving look. “She's already bugging me about damn expensive scarves. Next thing I know, she'll want Senbonzakura to go with it.”

 

“Syaoran would wield her beautifully,” Byakuya replied, half-imagining his niece doing just so.

 

She hadn't expressed interest in becoming a Shinigami, but with her flourishing reiatsu, Byakuya wouldn't entirely put it past her. And one of his scarves would look rather lovely on her as well. He had to admit, if to himself only, she was picking up on most of his habits; he couldn't help but find it flattering and endearing.

 

“She would,” Ichigo grudgingly admitted, fingers idly shifting the blanket over Syaoran's sleeping form just to give his hands something to do. “But I'm not going to let her decide just yet.”

 

He wasn't even sure he was ready to let Kaien commit to being a Shinigami, much less Syaoran. There was too much about that life he didn't feel comfortable revealing to his children. Thoughts of the war circulated briefly in his head, the battles he had fought and the pain he had suffered. Not to mention the friends he had lost.

 

No, Ichigo really didn't want any of his children to become Shinigami. But he also knew that to deny them their wishes wouldn't make them happy either.

 

A moment of comfortable silence passed between them where everything seemed normal. The sense of anticipation and uncertainty that had been growing between them since their encounter seemed to melt away in the face of familiarity. All those questions of what to do now and how they should act disappeared as the realization that their behavior didn't really need to change surfaced.

 

And then, Byakuya drew in a quiet breath. “We have to talk, Ichigo,” he said simply and forced himself not to fidget.

 

Just like that, the ease crept back towards tension, but more of uncertainty rather than discomfort. Friendship was easy to continue, something more in the face of what had happened to inspire their revelations wasn't quite as effortless.

 

“That never fails to sound ominous,” Ichigo muttered with a faint chuckle in return. “I know. There just hasn't been the time.” His shifted his gaze to Byakuya and felt that usual stirring of warmth inside of him.

 

“I'm not pushing for anything,” the Kuchiki noble felt he had to clarify in a quiet voice, which was very nearly embarrassed. It was almost cute. “But I am still here, and I will continue to be.”

 

The fifth-division captain felt the emotion flood through him and had to force himself to resist the urge to embrace Byakuya. He thrived on those words, the reassurance that Byakuya was offering him.

 

Ichigo's lips tilted towards a smile, inwardly almost wishing that Byakuya would push just a little. He brushed a hand over Syaoran's hair as warmth spread through his belly. She made a soft growl in the back of her throat, that probably would have been a whine if it weren't already so irritated, but didn't wake.

 

“I… Thank you. Really,” Ichigo added sincerely. “I don't think that I thank you enough for what you've done. Helping me like you have. With the kids. With Rukia. With everything. I… It means a lot to me.”

 

Somehow, the words seemed inadequate. And he wasn't even sure why he felt he had to blurt them out in that disorganized fashion right then and there. But Byakuya merely nodded and understood anyways, eyes brightening to a light silver color. There was something in his body language, in how relaxed and open he was. In the way he wasn't blank-faced or distant.

 

The two sat in silence for a moment and simply looked at one another over the sleeping girl between them. However, Ichigo finally opened his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by the sound of a throat clearing.

 

“I hope I'm not interrupting anything.”

 

Despite the sincerity of the words, they did indeed have the capacity to disturb the atmosphere between Ichigo and Byakuya. The two men turned as one to see Rukia in the doorway, her eyes shadowed with sorrow and the smile on her face equally sad and fatigued.

 

Her weariness, however, had nothing to do with the stress she was under but the rigors of long hours spent in reconnaissance for the odd Hollows Ichigo remembered being discussed at one of the meetings. She seemed in need of a good, warm meal and a comfortable bed for the night, not to mention a good change of clothes. But the concern in her eyes proved that she was going nowhere, at least not until seeing her daughter.

 

Byakuya shook his head in response, inadvertently breaking the strange thread that had begun to thrive between Ichigo and him. “Not at all,” he stated smoothly, knowing the former husband and wife would probably like to speak to each other privately.

 

It said much that he was willing to leave them alone and trusting that Rukia would not dare strike him. In fact, he wanted to believe that she wouldn't ever again. The sincerity in her voice and words when they had talked had been reassuring.

 

He shifted his gaze to Ichigo briefly. “I have a few things that require my attention, but I will return,” he informed the younger captain before returning his attention to his sister. “I'm glad to see that you are doing well, Rukia. I hope we can share a cup of tea before you return to your patrols.”

 

Her smile lost a touch of its sadness, holding a glimmer of her former self. “Of course, nii-sama,” she responded, and it was without that awkwardness that had been prevalent at their last meeting.

 

Dipping his head, Byakuya politely excused himself and left them to their business. He could tell by the look on Ichigo's face that he was thankful Byakuya had done so and without asking to stay behind for chaperone.

 

Dark blue eyes watched Byakuya's exit. “Still so formal,” she murmured, almost wistfully. “And I would have thought he'd lose that by now.” She entered the room fully but didn't take a seat.

 

“Why is that?” Ichigo asked, though he had the sneaking suspicion that he already knew what she meant.

 

Rukia gave him a look from the corner of her eyes. “Come on, Ichigo. Don't take me for a fool.”

 

He flushed and conceded her point. “It was not something easily admitted,” Ichigo acknowledged. One hand raked through his hair, messing up already disarrayed strands. “And I'm not jumping into anything. That wouldn't be fair to you.”

 

A short, bitter laugh escaped Rukia's lips, but it was directed at herself. “It hasn't been from the beginning. I've come to realize that.” Her eyes slid past him to where Kaien's soft snoring could still be heard. “I won't begrudge you happiness. You deserve it.”

 

A heavy silence settled between them at her admission, filled with dense truths.

 

Ichigo straightened and dropped his arms to his sides. “I was happy with you,” he said quietly, taking in her profile and the beautiful woman he had fallen in love with.

 

The place she had taken in his heart was still present, though not quite as consuming as it had been before. He did know, however, that it would never completely vanish either. He never thought it was possible to love more than one person before, but he had been wrong. And it was strange. Where his heart had once felt torn in two, pulling two ways at the same time, it now seemed to be settling in one direction alone.

 

“And it's not like I've stopped caring for you,” he continued, wanting to explain himself without making it seem like his feelings were that easily changed. “I was simply tired of waiting.”

 

“I know.” Rukia sighed, and it was just this side of defeated. “But I couldn't be with you while understanding that a part of you, even if you didn't realize it, yearned for someone else.”

 

The words fell between them and inspired another moment of silent contemplation as Ichigo absorbed her meaning. She had a point. But he also knew that if the abuse had never come between them, then he would have been perfectly content with Rukia for the rest of this life. He would have never given name to the strange feelings between he and Byakuya and would not have made the choices he was currently making. His love for her had never been contrived.

 

Ichigo shifted. “I don't want you disappear from my - from their - life,” he insisted, capturing her attention. “They still need their mother.”

 

“And I'll still be there for them,” Rukia answered as she rubbed her hands over her arms as though she were suddenly struck with a cold chill. “Nothing could stop me from being with my children. But it hurts too much right now. That's why I took this patrol.”

 

He inclined his head. “I understand.”

 

Ichigo had figured as much. He knew there had to be another purpose behind her decision other than a sudden, burning desire to take down strange Hollows. But Rukia fell silent then, lost to her own thoughts. Lost to the past most likely, their past and her own. The emotions flitting across her expression ran too quickly for Ichigo to interpret.

 

He looked at her again, taking in the curve of her face, the shade of her eyes. It still hurt to see her within touching distance but no longer able to pull into his arms. But honestly, it had been like that before they decided to separate; she had gradually pulled away every time he tried to restore what their relationship had once been like. Ichigo could understand her reasoning now, but that didn't make the pain he had felt then any easier to handle.

 

Still, he looked at her now with new eyes and new emotions and found that it wasn't as hard as it had been. The pain was still present, the clenching of his heart and the sense of fight left in him, but it was more bearable now. It was something that thought itself daring to heal, though it would always leave a scar.

 

He didn't want her to vanish from his life.

 

“Rukia.”

 

Her gaze went back to him, eyes bright and a bit less haunted then they were before. “Yes?”

 

Ichigo took a breath. “Despite everything, I think we could find some way to be friends again. You're still important to me.”

 

He watched as her lips pulled into a small smile, just an echo of the one he had grown used to seeing over the years. “I'd like that,” she responded sincerely. “Very much.”

 

Relief swept through Ichigo, who hadn't wanted to lose someone dear to him. He was able to return his ex-wife's shaky smile with one of his own, and the tension simmering between them dropped to near nothing. Though they would always have circumstance in their way, there was a still chance for friendship to remain. And that was the best Ichigo could ask for.

 

Uncertainty pretty much abolished, the conversation shifted as Rukia tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thank you for the message about Syaoran. I wish I could have gotten here sooner.”

 

“I debated about letting you know,” Ichigo admitted, remembering the minutes he had spent contemplating the decision. “I didn't want you to worry. But then, I knew you would be upset if you hadn't been told.”

 

Rukia inclined her head and moved her regard back to her children. “I'm missing so much of their life,” she murmured, forehead pinching in regret. “But that's really my own fault, isn't it?”

 

He didn't dare comment on her statement because Ichigo didn't know what he could say.

 

However, at that moment, one of the lower Shinigami from the fourth division approached and stepped passed the room. Ichigo and Rukia instantly clammed up as they waited for the girl to go by, clearly distracted by the papers in her hands. Both waited until her footsteps were long gone before continuing the conversation, the reprieve granting Ichigo enough time to plan his response.

 

“Syaoran and Kaien only want to see their mother.” Ichigo gathered Rukia's attention back towards himself. “Nothing else that might have happened matters to them.”

 

Rukia grinned at the thought of her children, the light joy enough to release some of the harsh lines around her eyes and mouth. “Then, I would like to visit with Syaoran.” She gestured towards her daughter. “I left my unit unsupervised, which is never a wise thing when the closest Shinigami to leadership they have is Sentarou.”

 

Ichigo chuckled as he rose to his feet, the mattress giving a shift and creak for his motion in protest. “It could've been worse.”

 

“Oh?” One brow arched in a familiar manner.

 

“You could have left them with both Kiyone and Sentarou,” he pointed out and thought of the two third-seats who had never ceased their bickering though decades had passed. He honestly didn't think they ever would.

 

Rukia rolled her eyes and smiled, something genuinely amused this time. “Oh, the horror,” she agreed teasingly.

 

A moment of ease passed between them and Rukia looked at her soon-to-be-former husband. Words danced on the tip of her tongue, and she opened her mouth to say them, but thought better of it at the last minute. Instead, she simply shook her head.

 

“Thank you, Ichigo,” Rukia murmured.

 

He nodded. “Try and see the twins before you leave again,” Ichigo suggested as he stepped towards the hallway. “I don't want them to forget you.”

 

She smiled again. “I will,” Rukia promised before her attention was stolen by attempting to wake her sleeping daughter.

 

He turned to watch her from the doorway for several long seconds, wondering just what she had thanked him for. He had done nothing to deserve her gratitude.

 

She carefully lowered herself to sit at Syaoran's bedside. Rukia lifted a hand and gently brushed back the dark hair from her daughter's face, though it was with significantly more intent than the barely present touch Ichigo had used earlier. Syaoran stirred at the soft touch and woke slowly, eyes fluttering open. The very instant she laid them on her mother, her lips parted into a wide and goofy smile. Like the child she was, her arms were held out for a hug, far too weary to throw herself at her mother.

 

Smiling a little himself, Ichigo turned away from the door. He had every intention of seeking out a warm cup of tea and possibly composing a quick Hell Butterfly to Yumichika to see how his division was doing. He figured that would be enough time for Rukia to spend with her children before he returned.

 

It seemed like things were finally getting better.

 

* * *

 

Perfectly placed to see into Syaoran's room, Byakuya had been watching, the former couple oblivious to his presence. It helped that he was trying to appear as if he weren't doing so, pretending to be completely engrossed in the large poster covering the wall. It wasn't proper for a Kuchiki to be skulking and eavesdropping like some low-mannered ruffian or Renji. But Byakuya seemingly couldn't help himself.

 

Grey eyes had continued to watch the couple talk, the distance too great for him to pick up on any of the conversation.

 

“Is that a hint of jealousy I sense in my kouhai?”

 

To Byakuya's credit, he somehow managed not to outwardly display his surprise with an undignified jump. Instead, he gave a restrained turn to regard the new arrival. He found Jyuushiro standing behind him, a faintly amused smile twitching at his lips.

 

He gathered his pride and pretended like he hadn't been caught peeking on Ichigo and Rukia. “I don't know what you mean,” Byakuya stated defensively.

 

Jyuushiro arched one white brow. “Eavesdropping and spying are new talents of the House of Kuchiki then? I shall have to let the second division know.”

 

“I didn't want to interrupt,” he explained and rather lamely at that, and carefully leaving out mention that he had already been present once before. To his horror, he felt the beginning of a blush creep onto his face. Still, Byakuya managed to square his shoulders with dignity.

 

He knew it was just an excuse and a thin one at best. Even he could tell that his senpai didn't entirely believe him, if at all. Especially considering the growing bemusement that had taken over Jyuushiro's expression.

 

Byakuya decided it would be better if he quickly changed the subject.

 

“How are you doing?”

 

The older man chuckled softly, the sound carrying no further than their own words, which were little more than hushed. “In other words, am I no longer frantic that I had somehow infected Syaoran with my illness?”

 

“In other words,” Byakuya agreed as he inclined his head.

 

Jyuushiro grinned. “I am composed. Isane explained everything and even a part of me knew that I wasn't contagious, but still…” he trailed off and paused, a faraway look taking over his dark eyes. “When she started coughing blood, my heart stopped. I'd never been able to forgive myself if it had been my fault.”

 

“Ichigo wouldn't have blamed you,” Byakuya responded quietly, and it almost shocked him how he could say that with such certainty. But he was grudgingly admitting to himself just how well he understood his best friend.

 

“I know, but I would have blamed myself,” Jyuushiro returned, briefly recalling the horror he had felt and the helplessness that had taken over him. His lungs threatened to clench in sympathy, but he fought down the urge.

 

Byakuya believed his senpai entirely, knowing that Jyuushiro was just the sort of man to do something like that. His attention was then grabbed by Ichigo and Rukia again as they continued to speak and even he could tell that the tension between them had lessened further. They were smiling, even Ichigo, who Byakuya had seen nothing but stress and sorrow the past few months. It tugged something inside of his heart that he refused to name just yet.

 

From his position, Jyuushiro watched Ichigo and his kouhai from the corner of his eyes with a knowing gaze. “He smiles like that for you, too,” Jyuushiro commented, able to guess the root of the emotions flickering across Byakuya's face.

 

Byakuya stiffened minutely at being caught but then allowed himself to nod slowly. “I know,” he replied very softly.

 

“Ichigo told me what happened,” Jyuushiro continued, not surprising Byakuya in the slightest with that information. “Have you managed to talk to him yet?”

 

The Kuchiki noble shook his head. “No. There hasn't really been opportunity.”

 

He said that, but even then, it felt like an excuse. That brief conversation inside of Syaoran's room had been a prelude, and all he had done was offer reassurance. And any moment before then, there had been distractions. The children needed something. Their divisions needed something. And perhaps there was a touch of avoidance between the two of them, each uncertain as to they should be acting from that moment on.

 

Jyuushiro sighed, but it was more affection then annoyance. “Between the two of you, I don't know who is more stubborn. If this were anything else, I would have already expected Ichigo to make the first move.” He paused, as if hesitating, before continuing, “But he won't so long as he thinks he's going to hurt anyone.”

 

Grey eyes fell to the floor, contemplating his senpai's meaning. Ichigo was far too self-sacrificing for his own good. And he had always been like that, putting others before himself, content so long as he was protecting those that meant the most to him. And once a person had his loyalty, they were hard pressed to lose it.

 

He wondered if that were Jyuushiro's own half-subtle way of telling him that he needed the distance. And then, Byakuya wondered just what was holding him back from doing it himself. Were all of the reasons he had behind his actions just excuses to hide the deeper emotions burbling inside of him? One that suspiciously resembled fear?

 

He could feel Jyuushiro's eyes on him, still so piercing even after all these years. “He won't reject you,” the older captain added knowingly, as if he had sensed Byakuya's internal dilemma.

 

He closed his eyes as he absorbed the statement, telling himself that it wasn't fear. But Senbonzakura's whispers filtered to the front of his mind as well, gently accusing him. She had claimed he was afraid because he didn't want to be hurt again. He didn't want a repeat of what he had felt for Hisana, an emotion that had become so bittersweet.

 

But Ichigo wasn't Hisana, and nothing in the man's demeanor even hinted that he could be like her. He wouldn't pretend for the sake of sparing him heartache or be so cold. No, even an emotionally stunted man as Byakuya could see the affection that Ichigo held for him. And whenever he thought of it, there was an answering surge of affection inside of himself.

 

What then was he so terrified of losing?

 

“I didn't think that he would,” Byakuya finally responded as he ignored the faint embarrassment in discussing his love life with Ukitake Jyuushiro in the middle of the fourth division.

 

His companion made a noncommittal sound in his throat and then decided to take pity on the younger man by switching topics. “Have you heard anything from the Kuchiki elders?”

 

“They have requested a meeting, which I have been ignoring in favor of caring for the twins.” Byakuya's face twitched in a manner that on anyone else would have fully expressed his distaste. As it were, his eyes only briefly narrowed.

 

The other man frowned. “Is that wise?”

 

“Probably not,” he admitted, thoughts of the elders filling his mouth with a bad taste for all the pompousness he would have to pretend and accept. “Yet, I do not want to hear their same blather. Nothing is going to change my mind on the matter of Rukia, nor will I be accepting whichever marriage proposal they are offering this time.”

 

Jyuushiro chuckled. “It seems that the Kuchiki elders are of the few that never witnessed the affections you actually carry.”

 

Despite his seniority, Byakuya cast the other man a glare of frosty annoyance. “I doubt they would have had chance to,” he countered dryly. “Grandmother has been most insistent as well. I will only be able to hold out for a few more days before she comes herself, and then, I cannot turn her away.”

 

“How disappointed they will be when they find out you won't be producing them any heirs,” Jyuushiro remarked with amusement.

 

Byakuya failed to catch onto the humor, eyes returning to the former couple just down the hall. “I've yet to decide if my current mantle is a gift or a curse. I am not sure I would want to pass this headache onto my child for any reason.”

 

His gaze caught movement within the room, Ichigo rising to his feet. Realizing that the other man was probably getting ready to leave and would notice the audience, Byakuya abruptly turned away from the doorway. Luckily, Jyuushiro noticed as well and joined him as they headed down the hall at a pace that was far from dignified.

 

“Why don't you join me for tea?” Byakuya suggested, doing his best to pretend he hadn't been spying on his best friend. “You came to see Syaoran, didn't you?”

 

“Among other things, yes,” Jyuushiro returned, and there was a hint of slyness in his voice. “I also wanted to ask Ichigo what he was going to do for Syaoran's birthday in a couple of days.”

 

Byakuya winced at the reminder, having nearly forgotten in the hustle and worry over her health. “She was looking forward to a large party, but I don't think she's well enough for that. He will probably go for something small with immediate friends and family since they'll have to come here.”

 

The other man nodded sympathetically. “That's for the best,” Jyuushiro agreed. “We'll just have to make sure that it's properly celebrated next year.”

 

“Of course.” Byakuya paused, his thoughts choosing to shift in another unrelated direction, though seeing Rukia probably had something to do with it. “How are the patrols going, by the way? I haven't heard anything about the strange Hollows since the captain's meeting.”

 

A frown marred the white-haired man's face, one of disappointment and perhaps a hint of aggravation. “Despite all the prior sightings, we haven't managed to see one yet. I don't know if they're hiding or something else entirely. I'm half-afraid to find out.”

 

“It does seem worrisome.” Byakuya sighed. “Perhaps we should assign more than one division to the patrols?”

 

“I was considering mentioning that to Genryuusai-sensei at the next meeting,” Jyuushiro admitted, “but I also don't want to make a snap judgment. It could be that I'm creating something out of nothing.”

 

Byakuya furrowed his brow thoughtfully. “And what does Rukia suggest?”

 

“She feels there is something out there. She simply can't find it.” He exhaled slowly, tucking his arms into the sleeves of his shihakushou. “It is making her unit very edgy.”

 

His captain's intuition was already churning around the details and putting his own opinion into the situation. “I trust in my sister's instincts.” Byakuya inclined his head.

 

Jyuushiro smiled, a touch of affection for his vice-captain entering his tone. “As do I.” He waved a hand dismissively. “But enough about work. Let's get some tea. And perhaps a snack.”

 

Despite himself, Byakuya chuckled, well aware of his senpai's appetite. “Of course,” he agreed.

 

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