Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Of Violence ❯ 24: Of Giving In ( Chapter 26 )

Of Violence
Chapter Twenty-Four: Of Giving In

 

There was a bit of a graceless stumble as Byakuya tried to open the door one-handed, the other carrying a sleeping Ryuunosuke. Ichigo attempted to help from behind him, but his hands were also occupied by Mikan and the blankets he had brought with him.

 

“I'll get it!” Syaoran announced helpfully, ducking between them and pushing open the front door to the Kurosaki home for them. She even went so far as to hold it, despite the yawn that she was failing to hide.

 

“Thanks,” Ichigo grunted, hitching the pile of blankets higher in his grip as Kaien wriggled between and entered ahead of the two adults.

 

Byakuya sighed at the boy's enthusiasm and found himself speaking before he entirely knew what he was doing. “Kaien, get back here and help your tou-san with these blankets. And take off your waraji.”

 

The boy skidded to a halt in the hallway, waraji nearly slipping on the floor; he glanced over his shoulder, blinking. “But I need to take my bath!” he protested and attempted to wheedle as he dutifully trudged back.

 

Ichigo rolled his eyes. “And this would be the only time he's eager to take a bath,” he muttered, losing grip on one of the blankets and watching as it tumbled to the floor, spilling bits of grass into the entryway.

 

Behind them, Syaoran stepped inside, closing the door. “I'll help, tou-chan. If you want.” She reached to remove her waraji with a disdainful sniff.

 

“Suck up,” Kaien murmured under his breath and threw his sandals into a haphazard stack.

 

Syaoran heard it, which he had probably intended, and immediately grew offended. Her eyes narrowed. “I am not.”

 

“Alright, that's enough,” Ichigo inserted tiredly, giving the fallen blanket a nudge with a disinterested foot. “No arguing. Kaien, pick this up. Syaoran, go turn on the lights in the twin's room.”

 

“Yes, tou-chan,” Syaoran agreed immediately.

 

With a scowl, Kaien gave a defeated huff and scooped the blanket off the floor and then stuck out his hand. “Might as well give me the other one,” he said as though it were a great burden to return them to their rightful place.

 

It would have been amusing, if Ichigo weren't so exhausted. After the fireworks had come the celebration, followed by much drinking, eating, and socializing. He had spent the majority of his time chasing down Kaien, trying to figure out just which Shinigami had his twins, and letting his guilt do the talking by giving out several apologies. Needless to say, he was quite exhausted.

 

Ichigo simply handed over the other one, nearly dislodging the unconscious infant in his arms. “Make sure that one goes to the laundry, okay?”

 

The boy muttered something that was probably an affirmative before he trudged down the hall, pretending to be very put out. Ichigo shook his head and exchanged glances with Byakuya.

 

“Too young to be a teenager, is he not?” the older man questioned, and it took several seconds for the tired father to realize that was supposed to be a joke.

 

Ichigo's lips drew into a smile. “I hear that sometimes they start early.” He leaned down and toed off his own waraji, noting that Byakuya had already done the same.

 

Shifting a stirring Mikan in his arms, Ichigo stepped down the hall. He wanted to get his youngest daughter in bed before she awoke completely; otherwise, he'd be up half the night with her. She wouldn't just rest quietly. No, she had to be entertained, and it would be up to him to do so.

 

“Takes after his father,” Byakuya commented, following along behind him. “A Kurosaki trait, I imagine.”

 

Despite himself, Ichigo chuckled, knowing that Byakuya was only teasing him. “Let's hope he didn't inherit all of my better traits. Like my determination.”

 

“I was thinking more along the lines of your stubbornness.”

 

Ichigo snorted and shot Byakuya a knowing look. “You're one to talk. Pot meet kettle.”

 

Ahead of them, Syaoran stepped out of her younger sibling's room and beamed brightly at her father and uncle. “The light's are on, tou-chan,” she said, failing to hide another yawn. “I think I'm going to save my bath for tomorrow.”

 

“Tired?” he questioned, Byakuya moving past him and into the twin's room. He put his free hand on her head as he noticed that she did look a little peaked. It had been a long day.

 

She shrugged, lips forming a small frown. “More like Kaien's making a mess in the bathroom again.”

 

Ichigo wondered if the blankets even made it to the proper place before Kaien jumped into the bath ahead of his sister. Or if he would find them wadded into a pile somewhere half-hidden. Ichigo tried to remember if he had been this troublesome as a child; he doubted it. Goat-Face undeniably put him to shame in that regard.

 

Or perhaps acting up was Kaien's way of pretending like he wasn't hurt. If that were so, Ichigo could grant him a little lenience. It was better to see a bit of mischief than his son moping about like he had done as a child.

 

“I'll talk to him,” Ichigo promised with a barely concealed sigh. “You can head on to bed, Syaoran.”

 

“Okay.” She threw her arms around him, giving him a big hug as he held her one-armed, bending to press a kiss to her forehead. “Will Byakuya-oji-san tuck me in?”

 

A shadow fell across the twin's doorway. “Of course, hime,” Byakuya inserted as he reached to take Mikan from Ichigo. “I'd be most delighted.”

 

Handing over his daughter, Ichigo pretended to be wounded. “Have I been replaced so quickly? Pretty soon you won't need tou-chan at all, will you?”

 

Syaoran looked up at him. “You're overreacting, tou-chan. I still love you.” She squeezed her arms around him again and then pulled away, daintily covering her mouth as another yawn attacked her. “I'm going to get ready for bed. Night.”

 

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” He watched as she wandered down the hall back towards her bedroom, Byakuya calling after her that he would be by soon. He couldn't help but feel a bit nostalgic in that moment. It seemed like yesterday when she had always needed to be tucked in and taken care of right before bed. All his children were growing faster than he'd like.

 

Beside him, Byakuya turned back towards the bathroom. “Go see what sort of mess Kaien is making,” he suggested, walking Mikan towards her shared crib with Ryuu. “I can take care of the twins.”

 

Ichigo nodded distractedly, and fighting back his own yawn, he wandered down the hallway towards the bathroom. Even from outside the half-closed door, he could hear the sound of water splashing. And strangely enough, there was a wet washcloth on the floor just outside of the door. Blinking, Ichigo reached down to pick it up and rapped his knuckles against the door to announce his presence as he pushed it open.

 

“You can wait, Syaoran!” greeted him as he slid inside. A waft of steam smacked him in the face.

 

Waving away the heated air, Ichigo was finally able to spot his eldest son, hands buried in his hair and covered in soap. He hadn't even turned to see the doorway, just assumed that his sister was there to bother him again.

 

“Did the blankets even make it to the laundry?” Ichigo asked mildly, casting a glance around the bathroom.

 

Kaien's clothing was scattered on the floor, some of it covered in water spatters. And there was another wet washcloth on the tile, near the door. Ichigo furrowed his brow only to belatedly realize why.

 

“Were you throwing towels at Syaoran?” he added exasperatedly, wishing he could understand their rivalry, even just a little.

 

His eldest son turned, some of the suds sliding down the side of his face as he made a face. “Tou-san,” he complained, fingers still buried in his hair. “I don't need help anymore.”

 

Looking around pointedly at the mess that would have to be cleaned, Ichigo arched one brow. “Why are you purposefully antagonizing your sister?”

 

Grunting, Kaien turned back towards his bath and dropped his hands. “She thinks she's so smart,” he grumbled, leaning back to dunk his head in the water. “Always telling me what to do and-- Ack!” Whining turned to spluttering as the water splashed over his head and into his mouth and eyes.

 

“Do you need help now?” Ichigo asked with some amusement, already pushing up his sleeves and stepping towards the bath. He was a father; he should be used to his clothes getting ruined by now.

The sound of Kaien trying to spit out the mix of water and shampoo from his mouth was the only response Ichigo would get. Shaking his head, he decided to give his aid anyway. He moved to help his son rinse out the rest of the soap, gently wiping the suds away from his reddening eyes and the water from his face. Once his son quit spazzing out long enough to let Ichigo assist him, the rest of the bath went rather smoothly. Though Kaien did sulk about having to be helped.

 

“I don't know why you're so ready to grow up,” Ichigo murmured as he rubbed a towel over Kaien's head and made his hair spike everywhere.

 

“It's no good to be a kid,” Kaien muttered, trying to navigate his arms through his nemaki at the same moment as his hair was being ruthlessly dried. “I can't do anything on my own.”

 

“Sometimes, that's not so bad,” Ichigo replied, dropping the towel to the floor and retying the boy's obi; he never could make a decent knot. “Take this as a lesson from your tou-san. You can't do much of anything on your own.”

 

Kaien sniffed, standing still long enough for Ichigo to finish the last knot. “But I am going to be strong,” he replied, lifting his gaze to his father's, determination glinting in their blue depths.

 

The same color as his mother.

 

Ichigo clapped his hand on his son's shoulder and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I know,” he replied, gently steering Kaien out of the bathroom ahead of him. “Even stronger than I am.”

 

“Of course!” Kaien replied, crossing his arms over his chest and enduring Ichigo's hand ruffling his hair. “Night, tou-san.”

 

Smiling, Ichigo watched as his eldest child turned and headed towards his room. “Good night, Kaien.” He stretched his arms over his head as he yawned.

 

Shaking his head, Ichigo ducked back into the bathroom and tried to clean up the mess Kaien had left behind. True that was more or less Nami's job, but he hated to play the part of an utter sloven. He could at least clean up the discarded laundry and pull the plug on the tub so that it would drain.

 

Ichigo worked quickly, finishing within minutes. Flipping off the switch, he left the bathroom door open and dumped his armful of laundry in the basket down the hall. Passing by Syaoran's room, he heard Byakuya's voice as they spoke, but Ichigo didn't linger outside the doorway. He continued to the room the twins shared, finding that Byakuya had switched off all the lights but a lamp near the doorway. Probably for his sake.

 

Mikan and Ryuunosuke were sound asleep in their crib, the former succumbing to sleep before the urge to play had managed to waken her fully. Ichigo was very glad for that. His own fatigue was crashing on him, and he didn't have the energy to entertain Mikan at the moment.

 

He stepped towards them and watched his youngest children sleep. They would never know their mother he realized sadly as he gently drew his finger across Ryuu's clenched fist. The boy's own fingers twitched, and he made a noise in his sleep, curling closer to Mikan. They would never remember Rukia for themselves, only in the stories that Ichigo or Byakuya or their siblings would tell.

 

The thought only served to depress him further. But Ichigo had already resolved that he would be there for both Ryuu and Mikan. And they would never want for care, not with all the friends and family close to him. He would make certain to tell them of Rukia because they deserved to know. She had loved them; Ichigo believed that wholeheartedly.

 

Biting back a sigh, Ichigo forced himself out of his melancholic thoughts. Rukia's death was still a painful thought for him, still striking too fresh for his battered emotions. Despite all that had happened prior to that fateful day, Ichigo had still loved her, and he doubted that would ever completely leave him. And honestly, Ichigo wasn't sure he wanted it to.

 

Feeling as if he had lingered long enough, Ichigo carefully untangled his finger from Ryuu's and drew back. He tucked the folds of the blanket around the twins and stepped away, murmuring a good night to their sleeping, innocent forms. With that settled, he stepped back into the hallway, flicking the lamp off but leaving the door cracked open. Surprisingly, Byakuya was waiting for him, seeming a bit fatigued himself. Like Ichigo, he had put in full duty at his division before attending the fireworks show with his extended family.

 

“Syaoran asleep?” Ichigo asked, the silence of the hallway surrounding the two of them.

 

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear, the older captain inclined his head. “She will be soon. It was a long evening.”

 

“Can't deny that,” Ichigo replied, rubbing the back of his head as he futilely tried to cover his impending yawn. “Thanks. Sometimes, I think it would be better if I had more arms.”

 

Grey eyes watched him solidly. “And how many more times must I say that gratitude isn't needed?”

 

“A couple more times at least,” Ichigo replied, and he managed a weary smile.

 

The noble sniffed, one hand idly patting down the folds of his uchikake. “I suppose I had best head home. The sixth division awaits me tomorrow.” When no immediate protest came, Byakuya turned towards the main hall.

 

Ichigo was left facing a dilemma. He had something he wanted to say, but the words were tripping his tongue, and he hated that feeling. He felt it was time he made his decision, made his choices clear. He already knew what he wanted, and it was time that Byakuya knew that as well. Byakuya had already made himself perfectly clear, and it was doing him no good to continue avoiding the issue.

 

“Wait,” he called, sounding both exasperated and defeated in all the same moment. “I mean, do you have a minute?”

 

Byakuya paused, his brow furrowing as he turned back towards Ichigo. “Of course,” he replied. “Is something wrong?” Confusion filtered into his face at the sight of Ichigo's expression, saying much without saying anything at all.

 

Feeling self-conscious now and a tad uncertain, Ichigo shook his head. “No.” He shrugged and then added in a mutter, “Kami, I'm terrible at this.”

 

The noble inclined his head, crossing the distance between them in a few short steps. He watched as Ichigo rubbed his hand over his head in an aggravated motion, as though lost in what he meant to say next.

 

“Ichigo?”

 

Brown eyes met his gaze, and fluster was causing a faint reddish tinge to appear in Ichigo's cheeks. “It's just... that conversation we were supposed to have? Well, we should have it now.”

 

Byakuya blinked; sudden understanding rocketed through him. Along with a sense of amusement. He should have known. Ichigo was still just as unpredictable now as he had been forty years ago. And he still lived spontaneously in some things.

 

“I...” Words failed the noble, and he worked his jaw for a moment before firming his stance. “Of course.”

 

“Right.” Ichigo nodded, and seemed to be talking to himself internally, his brows furrowed. Finally, he gave up and shook his head, chuckling lightly. “This should be easier, shouldn't it?”

 

Byakuya managed a graceful shrug. “Who knows? Perhaps if we weren't standing in the hallway...?”

 

The suggestion appeared to calm Ichigo down, and Byakuya realized that his best friend seemed nervous. Not an apprehensive sort of nervous. More like an awkward sort of nervous. He started down the hall, heading towards the main room, and before they had even managed to get halfway there, Ichigo was already talking again. The simple act of being in motion was calming his nerves.

 

“I loved Rukia,” he began softly, gaze distracted as he watched the hall in front of him. “And a part of me still loves her. I don't think that'll ever leave me.”

 

Byakuya found himself fidgeting, smoothing down creases and wrinkles in his robes that didn't exist. “No, it won't.” He thought of the pain in his own heart. Even to this day, he hadn't completely forgotten Hisana or his feelings for her. She would always have a piece of him, and he wouldn't give up that part either.

 

Glancing over his shoulder, Ichigo's smile was sad and filled with understanding. He paused in the hall, mid-stride, angling his body towards Byakuya.

 

“I know you understand that better than most,” he commented. “I love Rukia, and I miss her in my life, but...” He paused to gain his bearings, looking down at his palm as he clenched and unclenched his hand slowly. “But I don't want to raise them alone. It was hard on Isshin, and it was hard on us, and I don't want Tohru to be the only other parent they'll ever know.”

 

The Kuchiki noble was just a tad confused, his brow furrowing to reflect his disarray. “Then... only because of the children?” He hoped that he was merely interpreting Ichigo's words incorrectly.

 

“No! Yes. I don't know.” Fluster took over Ichigo's expression, a pained look of aggravation joining everything else.

 

Tipping his head to the side and surrounded by the still silence of the hallway, Byakuya nearly found himself holding his breath. He wondered what Ichigo was trying to tell him because he wasn't sure if it was an affirmation or a gentle, if not awkward, way of saying that there was never going to be anything more than friendship. And honestly, thought of the latter hurt, making his heart ache where he had kept it carefully sealed for some time.

 

Ichigo dropped his hand and fell against the wall, upper back hitting first. “Maybe I'm just trying to justify something that doesn't need to be justified.” He laughed, but it was pained and bitter. Self-deprecating. “I never used to be this indecisive. I mean, I know what I want - who I want - but then, I remember that I didn't used to before, so how do I know now? And I ask myself what would be best for my kids, and it all gets jumbled. Then, I'm back where I started, and... and I just don't know.”

 

Somewhere in that babble, Byakuya thought that maybe he understood. And though it makes his belly clench in worry, he asked anyway.

 

“Ichigo, what do you want?”

 

The younger man shook his head and swallowed thickly, knocking his head back against the wall. “I want a lot of things. I mean, I want probably more than a man should, which is why all this stuff just keeps fucking up around me.” One hand gestured vaguely, swirling around as if to include everything.

 

“Ichigo--” He was cut off before he could finish his next statement.

 

“I want,” Ichigo began, chest heaving and a half-broken look on his face in the dim light of the hallway.

 

They never did make it to the main room, not that Byakuya thought it really mattered. Nothing was ever easy or simple for the two of them.

 

“I want Rukia back alive, so my children can know their mother. I want the rumors to go away. I want to erase everything that happened in the past couple of years and fix everything that I screwed up. I want...” He reached up and rubbed fingers over his forehead, bearing down a bit harder than perhaps he should have. “I just want my kids to be happy. I think that maybe it might be okay if I'm happy, too. Bound up in all that is you, and I think... I know that I want you, too.”

 

Byakuya was floored by the look in Ichigo's eyes. By the conflicting emotions that his best friend was releasing and belatedly realized that this was probably the first time Ichigo had admitted anything that was bothering him. He usually kept it all bottled up, trying to solve it all himself. And wrapped up in all this was a confession, a perfectly Ichigo, perfectly perfect confession that Byakuya wouldn't have had any other way.

 

Dropping his palm from his face and letting it dangle at his side, Ichigo sighed tiredly. “I want too much,” he muttered, closing his eyes as though he were standing in the face of someone making terrible accusations about his person.

 

And Byakuya… well, Byakuya had heard everything he needed to hear. It was permission as much as he believed. Ichigo wanted him, and really, it was what he had been waiting to hear. Every since his first epiphany into the depth and meaning of his true feelings, his own indecision regarding on how to act on them. He had made his own choice before Rukia's death, which had only solidified afterwards. He was tired of being a coward.

 

He was certain he loved Ichigo. And he loved the children. They were his family, as much as Rukia had been and still was. In fact, he couldn't thank her enough for bringing them into his life. He regretted being unable to tell her that, how much he really owed her. But it was the truth.

 

Byakuya crossed the small space between them in the hallway, Ichigo looking up at the sound of his footsteps. Before he could even speak another word, Byakuya kissed him. He brought his fingers to Ichigo's face, directed their lips together. There was a brief moment of surprise where Ichigo just breathed against him, and then, Ichigo was returning the kiss with thankful passion. His free hand reached out, grasping onto Byakuya's arms, fingers squeezing tightly. But he wasn't pulling away, and Byakuya knew Ichigo. If he didn't want it, he would let Byakuya know in the loudest way possible.

 

His tongue slid across the seam of Ichigo's lips, a teasing trace and not intending a request for entrance. Still, he somehow tasted whatever it was Ichigo had eaten at the party. Some kind of fruit, sweet. And then, Byakuya drew back, grey eyes meeting brown.

 

“If you want too much, I must be the most selfish Shinigami in Soul Society,” Byakuya stated softly, not releasing him. “If you want me, you can have me.”

 

Ichigo's eyes widened briefly, and then, it was Byakuya's turn to be overwhelmed by Kurosaki passion, Ichigo capturing his lips within seconds. This time, the kiss was stronger, more committing. Ichigo's tongue slid into his mouth. And it was nearly intoxicating as Ichigo's other hand grabbed Byakuya and pulled him closer, locking their bodies together in the hallway.

 

It was warming and comfortable, an exchange of mutual affirmation. And Ichigo realized that he was at ease with this. He didn't feel guilt, like he was betraying Rukia. A part of him relaxed, simply enjoying the kiss for what it was.

 

When they broke apart, Ichigo was the first to speak. “It changes everything a bit, doesn't it?”

 

Byakuya looked at him, lifting his shoulder in a faint shrug. “Or nothing really. It doesn't have to. We can decide all the little things later.”

 

“Little things like who lives where?” Ichigo joked, his voice a low murmur. “And what exactly we're going to tell everyone?”

 

“Exactly,” Byakuya replied and followed it with a faint grimace. “Though I am pretty certain the latter has already been taken care of. They've all made their own assumptions.”

 

Ichigo frowned, his gaze dropping away. “I'm tired of their assumptions,” he muttered and thought sourly of the rumors that had only added to his unhappiness. “But I don't want to feed the mill either.”

 

“As I said, nothing need be done immediately,” the noble replied, his experience in diplomacy very useful at this moment. “One step at a time.

 

His brow furrowed, Ichigo repeated his words to himself. “One step at a time, huh?” he murmured at such a novel concept. Especially to one such as him, where he would usually throw himself in head first and assume everything would work out. He supposed a little patience couldn't hurt.

 

A small sound filled the hall, and Ichigo blinked to find Byakuya chuckling to himself. “What's so funny?” Feeling as if he were being teased, Ichigo scowled and huffed.

 

Shaking his head, the older man hurriedly composed himself. “Nothing, I assure you.” A small smile teased at the corner of his lips. “But in the nature of taking it slow, perhaps it is best if I left for the evening?”

 

“Yeah, probably,” Ichigo replied, though he still wanted to know what Byakuya had been thinking. He'd let it go for now, however. “I don't think I can explain to Kaien and Syaoran just yet.”

 

“Which is why this position is also not within the limits of taking it slow,” Byakuya added in complete agreement, gesturing faintly to the way their bodies were molded together against the wall.

 

Ichigo snorted. “You seem to be stuck on that.”

 

“As do you,” Byakuya pointed out logically, gently extricating himself from the tangled position they had found themselves in. “I am not so callous as to think this would be easy considering recent circumstances. We are Shinigami, Ichigo. We have decades.”

 

“Centuries. Millennia if we are as lucky as Jyuushiro.” Ichigo raked his hand through his hair, messing up the orange spikes that were getting just a tad long. “This is good night then?”

 

Byakuya inclined his head. “It is. I will see you at the meeting tomorrow.”

 

It was difficult for the other captain to repress his groan of disappointment. “Dammit, Byakuya, and here, I'd almost forgotten about it. That excuse still works, you know.”

 

“Only because a certain someone covered for you,” Byakuya reminded him, remembering the excuses he had created to cover Ichigo's tardiness and/or complete lack of appearance. He was still better than Zaraki at attending, however. And far better than Kurotsuchi had been.

 

“Funny how I seem to be drawing a blank.” His eyes glinted mischievously.

 

But Byakuya let the comment slide. He couldn't tell if they were both stalling or if it was the awkwardness coming into play once more.

 

Patting down the front of his robes, the Kuchiki noble eyed his best friend. “So long as the blank finds you at the first division by eight tomorrow. Goodnight, Ichigo.”

 

The teasing play slowly faded as Ichigo nodded, something like indecision in his gaze. He watched Byakuya for a moment before seeming to come to a conclusion.

 

Ichigo reached out, wrapping his hand around Byakuya's upper arm before the noble could pull away and leaned forward, closing the small distance between them. His mouth fell over Byakuya's gently, and they were kissing, sweet and exploratory. His tongue flicked briefly over Byakuya's lips, more of a tease than an invitation. Goodbyes weren't meant to be requests for more.

 

Ichigo drew back, unconsciously licking his lips as he released his hold on the other man. “Good night.”

 

Smiling softly, Byakuya nodded and turned on his heels, heading for the front door. Despite the awkwardness of the conversation and everything else, he somehow felt lighter. As though some weight had been released from his shoulders.

 

One step at a time. Day by day. That was more than enough for the both of them.

 

- - -

 

Yumichika enjoyed working on Tuesday, even if the rest of the division usually treated it as a day off. The fifth had few rotations on Tuesday, and as such, it was their least busy day of the week. Most of the time, Ichigo let them all do as they wished. Yumichika was no exception, but he found that the quiet that surrounded him on Tuesdays was something to be treasured. Quiet had been so difficult to find in the eleventh, and so he had learned to savor those moments whenever possible.

 

Having finished his own work, Yumichika pushed open the door to Ichigo's office and left it open to air out. Recently, his captain had been locking himself up inside, and it was growing stifling. Well, he was going to fix that. And it just so happened that Ichigo was off today as well, no doubt spending time with his children and Byakuya.

 

Yumichika smirked a bit to himself at that thought.

 

Crossing the floor, Yumichika pushed open the window and let in a fresh breeze. The wind chose that moment to gust inside, just like autumn to do such a thing, sending several of the papers stacked haphazardly on Ichigo's desk fluttering to the floor. Good thing he was already planning on sorting through them.

 

He crouched to pick up the dropped papers, quick gaze ascertaining their importance. A few supply requisitions, already signed. And the schedule for next week, half-finished. He kept the requisitions since they needed to be sent in but returned the schedule to the only clean corner of the desk.

 

With a faint exasperated sigh, Yumichika lowered himself into his captain's chair behind the desk. “Honestly, taichou,” he murmured and shook his head as he reached for the abundance of paperwork. “What would you do without me?”

 

Pursing his lips, the vice-captain began to shuffle through the papers, sorting them into appropriate piles. Those that still needed Ichigo's attention. Those that had been half looked over. And those that were completed, only needing to be sent to the proper location.

 

At the very bottom of the clutter, Ichigo really must have left in a hurry the day before, Yumichika found a paper that was different than all the others. One that didn't fit Soul Society's usual communiqués. Pulling it out curiously, he thought he recognized the heading and quickly scanned the contents.

 

Legal documents. These were Ichigo's divorce papers. And a short glance through the pages revealed that they had been signed down to the very last dotted line. Apparently, they were never returned.

 

Yumichika dropped the papers back down to the desk and stared at them. There really was no point to the legalities anymore now, was there? Did they really need the final blow to their relationship to arrive postmortem?

 

Yumichika knew that answer without having to ask anyone. Frowning to himself, he reached for the papers and gave them one last look over. No one would miss them; he was sure of it. And without further ado, he tore every last one of them in half. The sound of paper ripping filled the air, joining another gust of fresh wind from the open window.

 

Pleased with himself, the vice-captain rose to his feet and gathered up the paperwork that was actually complete. The remains of the divorce documents would find their way to a trash can, most preferably one that wasn't anywhere Ichigo would go near. Satisfied, Yumichika hummed something pleasant under his breath and left the office.

 

Time to get back to work.

 

- - - - -