Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Permanence ❯ Look Over Here ( Chapter 3 )

Permanence
by mikan

Chapter Three: Look Over Here

What a mess.

What a needless, utterly senseless mess, thought the Mistress of the Teahouse as her gaze slid from Shiba Kaien's haggard face to Kuchiki Byakuya's impassive one. Shiba wore an expression of exhausted blankness, his head resting against the wall. Kuchiki merely regarded her with those pale, inscrutable eyes of his. The Kuchiki eyes.

A ridiculous urge to laugh rose up within her suddenly. How well she knew them, those eyes! Such a pale gray as to be almost transparent, ringed with flecks of amber that were rarely noticeable except in instances of emotion. And what emotion she'd seen! She had witnessed those eyes glitter with anticipation, turn a mercurial silver in passion, lighten frightfully in icy contempt. Yes, he was most certainly his father's son, every inch of him... that strong set of jaw, those eyes that now regarded her with opaque steadiness.

"Lord Kuchiki," she murmured, inclining her head slowly. With the same deliberateness of motion, she turned her attention to Shiba Kaien, who was now bending his legs, breathing harshly as he sought to push himself to his feet.

"Lord Shiba, you are unwell. I will have a room made ready immediately so you may lie down."

He shook his head -- a bit too vigorously, as he belatedly realized. Groaning, he cradled his temple and muttered, "No--"

"You are in no position to argue the matter at present, my lord." She shuffled forward a few steps, the heavy silken hems of her layered robes swishing past his feet. Facing the hallway which stretched out directly before him, she called out in a dainty sing-song:

"Gra-nny...! If you please...!"

The hallway remained silent. As she stood there, waiting for the old woman to appear, out of the corner of her eye she caught the hesitant shift of a foot. She turned her head and pinned the girl with her gaze.

"My dear. Do be so kind as to find Granny in the back room. Inform her that Lord Shiba requires our immediate assistance."

The girl merely stood there, frozen and wretched, in that horrifically soiled kimono.

"Byakuya--"

Shiba Kaien was now staggering to his feet. Kuchiki Byakuya caught his arm just in time, pulled him upright.

"Sorry..." Shiba addressed her, his brows knitting together as he visibly strained to match words to his thoughts. "Her..." He gestured at Hisana. "She..."

She laid a hand lightly on his arm, halting his mumbling. "Lord Shiba, there is no need to exert yourself." At that moment, to her immense relief, a door slid open some distance down the hallway. She smiled tightly at Shiba, then greeted the old woman who had emerged from the back room.

"Ah, Granny! Lord Shiba requires a room, immediately."

The old lady bowed. "The Willow Room is ready for his lordship. I will have the girls come and assist him."

"Yes, please do so. Oh, and Granny--" she paused, the smile still firmly in place on her lips, "--the darling girl you dressed up for tonight appears to have lost her way."

The old lady's face showed no emotion, but her steps were quick as she proceeded down the hallway towards the corner where they stood. Briskly she said to the girl who stood apart in the shadows: "Come, child. Your kimono needs to be changed. I'll bring you to your room."

At her words the girl began to back away, her small feet sliding behind her in blind, uncertain steps. Her eyes shot nervously from one face to the next.

"Come," the old woman repeated.

The girl spun then and stumbled into a run down the darkened hallway.

"Wait!" Shiba Kaien shouted.

The Mistress expelled a breath through gritted teeth. Cursing Takezo silently, she stared down the hallway where the girl had fled.

"I will fetch her," said the old woman, already moving to follow after the girl.

"No, Granny," she cut in, "please attend to Lord Shiba. I will see to the girl." Gathering the skirt of her robes in her fist, she nodded curtly at the two noblemen. "My lords."

Suddenly Kuchiki Byakuya spoke.

"That person... appears to be in some distress."

She paused at that. How like his father he is! she remarked to herself for the second time that evening. That same voice, that same manner of speaking -- bland politeness masking genuine concern. Thinking on this, she was taken back to another evening, long past: a young man with the same pale eyes and dark hair, fixing his gaze on her as she hurried down a hallway much like this one, clumsy in her long robes. She had been only a graceless apprentice then; he, merely a young, untried Kuchiki son. The memory of that gaze, so plainly anxious as he watched her tripping on her robes, lingered in her mind, and she bestowed now upon his son a smile tinged with a hint of warmth.

"Such solicitude for one so unworthy does you merit, my lord." She bowed deeply, then turned from him and headed into the hallway to find the girl.

Hisana...

The voice echoed in her head, had her halting at a corner, eyes wide in the dark hallway.

Hisana...

It was him! That voice again... that repulsive face...

Hisana began to tremble where she stood. Keep moving! she shouted at herself, pushing her feet to scramble into motion, rush down the smooth wooden walkway, away from that frightening woman and that old lady and that voice--

"Hisana."

This time she felt his breath on her ear. But the scream died strangled in her throat as a powerful hand slapped over her face and she was pulled off her feet. In the space of a heartbeat she was tossed onto a hard floor, into complete darkness. For a few dazed moments she thought she had passed out. Yet the pain was too acute for unconsciousness -- her elbow had struck the floor first, and now she curled brokenly onto her side, her bones throbbing, the wind knocked clear out of her chest. It was so dark -- her eyes had been tightly shut against the pain but she had them wide open now, as soon as she could think again, and yet she could see nothing. She lay there in mute terror, eyes searching wildly for that horrific figure to surface out of the blackness.

"Trying to break your neck again?" came the softly spoken words.

Her breath caught, the sudden, overwhelming rush of renewed fear choking her. She tried to hold herself completely still, yet her whole body shook, shivered at the strange cold air that wafted about her.

"Haven't I made it clear? You can never escape me."

"What do you want?!" she cried, her voice shrill and breaking. The words died into silence. She stared into the darkness, the sound of her frantic, shallow breathing maddening in that awful room -- vast and yet close, close enough that his nearness prickled her skin.

He began chuckling -- low, throaty sounds of laughter that danced around her.

"What do I want?" he echoed. "Not I, my dear; rather, you. Did I not ask you this before? Is there not something you desire, Hisana? Something you would give your life to obtain?"

His words sent shock pouring through her, chilling her into immobility. The memory flashed in her head: a leering face, a voice that crawled upon her skin. Is there not something you desire?...

She had thought of Rukia then, and now, the child's face lanced through her mind again.

"Shall I help you remember?" asked the voice softly.

And then, out of the darkness surfaced a weak glow. Squinting, she saw that it was a paper lamp; slowly, she pushed herself upright, her elbow twinging painfully. Gradually the pale yellow light began to spread, the darkness receding to the corners of the room. Far ahead, he suddenly appeared.

He was seated on the edge of a low raised platform that ran along the front of the room. Next to him sat an ornate rectangular screen, a broad panel of wood lacquered in gold. White cranes in flight swept across its width; the gold background shimmered in the dim light.

"Come closer," he whispered, his lips curving slightly. "Look over here."

She did not move.

He cocked his head to one side. "No?" His gaze slid behind the screen for a moment. "I have something of yours here, Hisana. Something I think you'd be very glad to see again."

Her eyes widened at his words, and hastily she scrambled to her feet. He threw his head back and laughed, watching her stumble across the floor.

"Look," he exclaimed gleefully, springing up and spreading his hands towards the back of the screen. "Look here!"

Hisana hurried onto the platform, took one look behind the screen and froze.

"Isn't she adorable?" he murmured, creeping nearer.

"Don't you touch her!" Hisana shrieked, flinging her arm at him with sudden strength. She rushed towards the basket sitting behind the screen and snatched up the swaddled child. Holding Rukia tightly against her chest, she stared down at the man sprawled across the platform.

He was chuckling still as he rolled back into a sitting position, eyeing her with amusement.

"My, my, Hisana... quite the feisty one, you are. All that delicacy certainly is a trick for the eye." He arched a brow. "Well? Aren't you glad you looked?"

She remained silent for a long moment, her gaze never wavering from his face. "What do you want?" she demanded finally, the steadiness of her voice surprising her.

He sighed then, regarded her wearily. "Not a word of thanks, I see, for saving your sister's life." Then his voice turned -- like hers, hardened. "What you hold in your arms is, by your own admission, what you would give your life for. It is what you desired and I have given it to you. Now, I call my forfeit."

Hisana stood silent and still, her arms rigidly locked around Rukia. The man's eyes bored into hers, those same intensely black eyes burned into her memory.

"You are to belong to me, Hisana, your soul in its entirety."

"Belong...?" Bewilderment was plain on her face.

"Yes," he whispered. "Belong. To me."

Her revulsion was instantaneous and completely transparent. "I will never--"

"Perhaps I am not being clear," he cut in. "You are the forfeit for your sister's return. In other words, if you wish to keep her, you must give yourself to me."

She stared at him, her mind denying the import of what she was hearing.

He studied her face. "I fear you misunderstand me," he said at last, leaning forward. "I mean you no harm. By submitting yourself to me, you empower yourself, Hisana. A life in the first district, the best kind of life to be had -- it's yours, if only you so choose."

"I have no interest in such a life."

"Do you understand the choice you are making?" he asked quietly.

She ignored him and turned to step down from the platform. Her heel hadn't even touched the floor when the child in her arms started wheezing violently.

"Rukia!" Hisana gasped, pushing the swaddling cloths away from her sister's face. The child's mouth was open in a little O of horror, her dark eyes focusing with frightening intensity as her small body fought to draw in the air suddenly being denied her.

Hisana tugged at the tight layers of cloth wrapped around Rukia's chest. Frantically she loosened them, pulling until she could see the bare skin of the child's neck. There was nothing choking her, nothing around her throat, nothing in her mouth. Yet she was still in distress, more so now -- her lips were starting to take on a bluish hue.

Hisana whirled around, ready to accuse, ready to beg, and felt her heart stop.

The man was nowhere to be seen.

She stared at the empty platform in absolute horror, then at the writhing baby in her arms.

"No," she whispered, falling to her knees and laying the child on the floor. Her hands shaking, she hastily unwrapped the rest of the swaddling cloths. The child's dark head was straining upwards, the little throat fighting to draw breath.

Your forfeit.

Hisana's head snapped up; mindless with despair, she scanned the room wildly. He was nowhere in sight. Had he spoken or had she heard his voice inside her head?

"You're going mad," she told herself.

She's dying, came the voice again.

Hisana dipped her head, breathed desperately into her sister's mouth, and watched as the child continued to strain. Rukia's skin was now ashen; her lips were darkening to gray. A moment longer, and...

"Stop it!" Hisana cried out to the room, knowing he was there somewhere, watching her. "Stop this! I'll give you what you want, just..."

There was no response. The child's wheezing was becoming fainter and fainter.

"Do you hear me, you bastard?!" Hisana screamed.

"Such language!" came the exclamation from behind her. She looked up and found herself staring right into his eyes.

"What I want, Hisana?" he murmured.

Suddenly the world was very still -- there was no more fear, or fury, or revulsion, or despair, only his eyes -- those dark, dark eyes with their strange heaviness that reached deep inside her chest, settling into her, steadying her.

"Yes," she whispered, suddenly feeling very tired.

"Then swear yourself to me," he said, his voice calm and smooth and low. "Acknowledge my forfeit -- of your own will."

The words came easily, so easily to her lips. "I acknowledge it."

"Of your own will." He watched her face intently.

"Of my own will," she echoed, feeling strangely distanced from the words she was speaking.

He smiled then. "Good girl."

As if it were an afterthought, he swept his right hand dismissively over the child on the floor. At once Rukia's wheezing ceased. Hisana stared speechlessly the child who moments before had been in the throes of death. Now she looked as if she were sleeping peacefully, her little chest rising and falling in even breaths.

"She's..."

"Sleeping. She's tired." He reached out and touched Rukia's cheek in the briefest of caresses, then turned his attention to her again. "And so are you."

Yes, yes she was. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she had a thought that she should be awed by all this, alarmed by the power which this man could command. Yet it was becoming difficult to feel anything beyond the pervading heaviness of the calm sinking into her bones.

"Rukia is alright," she remarked, looking down at the sleeping child.

The man reached out towards Hisana's face; a gnarled finger swept a lock of hair behind her ear.

She did not flinch.

"Everything will be alright from now on," he stated. "Come, you must rest."

In that moment, beyond her will or capacity for understanding, she accepted every word he said.

Byakuya stood over the futon, looking down at Kaien. The elderly woman who had led them to this room was kneeling at Kaien's side, tucking him in under the heavy layers of quilted silk.

"This is stupid," Kaien muttered.

Byakuya ignored him, stepping aside as a maid brought forward a polished copper pail. She set it down near Kaien's head.

"If you feel unwell during the night, Lord Shiba," said the old woman, "please do not hesitate to use this."

Kaien glanced sideways at the shiny bucket, and sighed deeply. He grasped the edge of the thick silk comforter and once more pushed it off his chest. "I--"

"Cease this protesting, Kaien," Byakuya cut him off, a touch of weariness in his voice. "You are too ill to venture home."

Kaien glared up at him. "I'm fine."

His impatience discernible in the slight narrowing of his eyes, Kuchiki Byakuya turned to the old woman, who had once again pulled the covers back under Kaien's chin. "Please ensure that he is awakened before sunrise tomorrow--"

"I'm not staying a night in this joint, Kuchiki," Kaien said crossly, sitting up and flinging the comforter off his body. Planting his hand on the tatami, he made ready to get up, but suddenly paused and shut his eyes, a telltale sway to his pose.

Byakuya merely watched him, then said, "I advise you to lie down. Your accommodation for tonight has already been settled, but if you befoul these sheets, I will have you held accountable for all costs."

Kaien cracked open his eyes and shot him a malevolent look. The old woman clucked, "Now, now, Lord Shiba..." as she put her hands on Kaien's shoulders and coaxed him back onto the futon.

"It is imperative for him to return to the academy as early as possible," Byakuya continued, as if there had been no interruption at all.

The old woman bowed. "As you wish, Lord Kuchiki."

"His uniform will need to be laundered."

"We have already seen to that, my lord."

"Very well." His eyes flicked over Kaien's scowl. "I will inform the others that you are unwell."

"Just tell 'em I went back early."

"Shall I convey that to the dormitory master as well, when he questions me about your empty bed?"

Kaien rolled his eyes and threw his arm across his face, blocking out the lamplight. "Get the hell out of here."

Byakuya inclined his head briefly at the old lady and proceeded towards the door. Hastily she got to her feet, hurried past him and slid it open. He stepped out into the hallway; she bowed and was about to pull the door shut, when he said suddenly:

"May I ask you something?"

She paused. "Of course, Lord Kuchiki."

Byakuya hesitated, looked away from her curious gaze. "That person... in the hallway, earlier..."

She waited. When he still did not speak, she stepped into the hallway herself and slid the door closed behind her. She looked up at him and asked quietly, "What of her, my lord?"

In the dim candelit hallway he felt somewhat emboldened, his face shadowed, voice muted by the thick fibrous paneling that lined the walls. Even the air, heavily perfumed and laden with incense, hung close, leaving him with a strange sense of isolation. "Will she be... perhaps... in need of aid?"

The old woman sighed. "My lord, truly. Such a trivial matter--"

"She appeared very much afraid," he cut in. "If due to this incident she has incurred the disapproval of your employer, then... amends must be made."

"She is a servant girl newly arrived today," the old woman replied. "As such, she is still unaccustomed to the surroundings. But she will settle into her duties in good time, my lord. I assure you, there is no cause for concern over her welfare."

He was silent for a long moment, long enough that the old woman peered up at him. "My lord? If there is nothing else you require, allow me to lead you back to where your gathering is." She did not wait for his assent; she began heading up the hallway ahead of him.

Byakuya held back a sigh and followed her. Together they proceeded through the warren-like hallways of the inner teahouse in silence. As they reached the wing where the banqueting rooms were, the sound of laughter and merry-making encroached upon the air -- a low hum at first, growing more raucous and pronounced as they approached. The old woman led him to a pair of double sliding doors which led to the room where the party from the academy was gathered. He could hear his instructors' inebriated yelps of laughter, and his fellow classmates' drunken chorus.

"What is her name?" The question escaped him just as she slid the door open. His instructors spied him instantly; one raised a jug of sake to him in acknowledgement.

"Oi, Kuchiki! Where ya been? Yer missin' out!"

The old woman bowed and gestured towards the open doorway. The noise spilled over into the hall.

"Please," he murmured, certain that she had heard him, that she understood what he was asking to know.

Her gaze was steady, her face completely closed. And then she shook her head, said with a resigned sigh:

"Hisana. Her name is Hisana."

Byakuya felt a shiver pass through him. Hisana. Her name was like a whisper, like the girl herself -- fragile yet utterly compelling, hinting at an unbearable mystery. The old woman bowed and turned away without a word, slowly making her way back into the inner maze of the teahouse.

"Kuchiki!" The cry rang out, jolting him. "Watcha standin' there for? Get in here!"

He turned back to the doorway, his eyes squinting in protest of the garish light, the jarring noise. He stepped inside the room and slid the door shut behind him, heard the chaos swell all about him, yet inside he felt strangely still.

Hisana.

The knowledge of her name sank deep within him, an unfamiliar joy that he quietly welcomed into himself.

"Lord Shiba."

Somebody was shaking his shoulder.

"Lord Shiba."

Kaien jerked his shoulder away and grumpily curled up under the covers.

"Lord Shiba!" The voice was louder now, more shrill. And it was -- he was just noticing now -- female.

Female?

Kaien cracked his eyes open. Blinding daylight flashed in; he shut them again tightly.

Wait...

He sat upright abruptly. The room tilted crazily then, a sickening swirling sensation pounding in his head and churning in his gut. He crumpled to his side, falling back onto the futon, groaning.

"Shit." Shit shit shit. His tongue felt fuzzy, heavy as a dead slug in his mouth. He remembered the girl. Ah, Kuukaku... was it Kuukaku?

"Kuu -- water," he mumbled.

An arm slid under his back, coaxing him upright. "My lord, you must sit. I cannot give you water if you are lying down."

My lord? What the hell was wrong with Kuukaku? Come to think of it, it didn't sound like Kuukaku. If it wasn't Kuu, then who--

He started blinking rapidly to clear the crustiness away from his eyes, taking note of his surroundings for the first time. To his left, a wall of sliding shoji glowed with bright sunlight from outside. The room was mostly empty; his futon was all that occupied the tatami-covered floor. He looked down. He was wearing a cotton yukata, dark blue slashed with white. He had never seen it before in his life.

His thoughts tumbled about inside his head. It was daylight outside -- that meant he was supposed to be at the Academy, this instant, sitting in class. Clad in his uniform and not in some yukata with fish-patterns all over it.

Just then, a face dipped into his vision. Kaien took one look at the girl and remembered everything.

Her hair was her own today -- glossy black, framing her face in layers that fell forward as she bent near him. She had a small cup of water in her hand.

"Here," she said, bringing it slowly to his lips. "Please drink."

She tipped the cup, and he drank hungrily, draining it in what felt like one gulp. She took the cup away, then studied his face.

He grinned like an idiot at her.

"Are you feeling well enough to eat, my lord?" she asked him. "I've brought you some breakfast..." She was kneeling by the side of the futon; turning, she picked up a footed tray and set it on the floor next to him. Her eyes met his -- with a start, he noticed that they were quite strikingly blue. Kaien frowned. How could he not have noticed that last night?

She was looking at him expectantly. "Will you have breakfast, my lord?"

He looked down at the tray and realized only then that he was actually ravenous. And still desperately thirsty. He swallowed against the dryness in his throat.

"I will--," he tried to say, but his voice broke on the last word and mangled it into an undignified croak. Utterly horrified upon hearing himself, he reached for the cup of tea sitting steaming on the tray. At the same moment, her hand fell upon his arm, halting him.

"The tea is very hot. I will bring some more cold water."

He shook his head, picked up the earthen cup, and took a couple of sips of the scalding tea. The liquid seared its way down, blanching away the fuzzy slug in his mouth. He set the cup down carefully on the tray and cleared his throat.

"No," he said, his voice deep and normal and -- thank God -- manly, "don't bother. The tea's good." He surveyed the tray with interest, then picked up the small bowl of soup. His head was still swimming slightly -- take it easy, Kaien, he warned himself. You better not throw up on her lap a second time.

He lifted the delicate porcelain spoon and saw with irritation that his hand was shaking. As he fought to steady it, cool fingers touched his, gently taking the spoon and the bowl from his grasp. With quiet grace she swirled the spoon in the soup, mixing up the bits of tofu and strips of seaweed. Then Kaien found himself staring at a spoonful of light miso, which she was lifting to his lips.

"Open," she murmured.

He obeyed, took the spoon into his mouth. She tipped it, then slid it out smoothly. The warm liquid spread over his tongue, and he gulped it gratefully. He watched her dip the spoon into the soup again, and grinned.

"My lord?" Her face was so grave.

"Nothing," he replied, his smile widening. She returned her attention to the soup, stirring it once more. The smooth dismissal in her manner rankled a bit, compelled him to keep on blabbering. "I was just thinking you're good at this. Whenever I try to feed my little brother his porridge, my sister always warns me that I'm going to knock his teeth out if I'm not careful."

"Ah," she exclaimed softly, her gaze finally focusing on him and not the damn soup bowl. "Lord Shiba has a younger sibling?"

"Yep. Two of 'em." He leaned forward an inch. "What's your name?"

She blinked, drew back an inch. "My name?"

He nodded.

She looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Uh... Hisana. My lord."

He cocked a brow. "Hisana My Lord? What a peculiar name!"

She colored, her lips flattening into a line. "My name is Hisana, my lord."

"I heard you the first time," he assured her.

Her fingers curled around the base of the soup bowl. Kaien waited, watching her with undisguised interest. He'd bet--

"The name's Hisana," she said, her voice low and irritated, the serene facade slipping for a moment. "Just Hisana."

"Ah." He gave her a subdued smile, feeling absurdly pleased. "Well, my name is Kaien. Not 'my lord'."

She looked utterly charming when she was at a loss, Kaien decided. He nodded at the bowl in her hands. "Can I have some more?"

Hastily she dipped the spoon back into the soup and started feeding him again, all the while visibly trying to regain her poise. She was concentrating too hard. There was a little crease between her brows, and the line of her mouth looked positively mutinous -- like Kuukaku's when she was out to prove something. When they had emptied the soup bowl, she set it down onto the tray and proceeded to pick up the slim chopsticks sitting next to the plate of crisp fish. Expertly she extracted a sliver of gleaming white meat.

"I'm sorry, by the way--" he began.

Her eyes flew to his.

"--about last night."

She cupped her hand under the chopsticks and held the meat up to his mouth. She fed him as deftly as she had the soup, the chopsticks never touching his lips. He chewed on the fish, and waited.

"There is no need for apology," she said while picking once more at the fish. "You were unwell."

"I'm pretty sure I ruined your kimono."

She fed him another mouthful that kept him momentarily quiet. "That was the okiya's property, my lord. Not mine."

"Kaien," he mumbled, swallowing the fish.

She gave him a long, measuring look, the kind his mother always used to give him before she laid down some ultimatum or other.

"I respectfully remind you, my lord," she said, picking out another slice of meat from the fish, "that we were given orders to wake you before sunrise. It is now midmorning. Although I am hardly knowledgeable about these matters," she slipped the morsel into his mouth, "I dare to presume it might be in your best interest to finish breakfast and be on your way as quickly as possible."

"I'm already late," he said with a shrug. "No rush."

At that moment, the door slid open. It was the old woman from the night before.

"Lord Shiba, an escort has arrived to accompany you back to the academy."

He frowned. An escort? The academy actually sent an escort to track him down for cutting class?

"There is also a missive for you," the old woman said, reaching into her sash and withdrawing a small piece of folded paper. She glanced at Hisana. As if jolted, the girl hastily put the chopsticks down on the tray, sending them clattering against the porcelain. Rising, she wiped her hands on the skirt of her robe, then took the note from the old woman and hurried to present it to him. Kaien noted her fingers were trembling slightly.

He looked up, meeting the old woman's gaze. "I understand," he said, injecting an air of bored dismissal into his tone that would have rivaled Byakuya's. "You may inform the escort that I will be joining him shortly. I should like a few more moments to finish my breakfast in peace."

The old woman regarded him in blank silence. He arched a brow.

She bowed, stepped back into the hallway, and slid the door shut.

He turned to Hisana.

She was still staring at the door, as if it hadn't closed and the old lady were still standing there. Well, the old hag probably was still standing there, but...

"Hey," he said softly. "You okay?"

Her head snapped towards him, her eyes wide and anxious. For a moment she did not speak, and Kaien had the feeling that she was not really seeing him. "M-my lord?" she finally stammered, swallowing nervously.

Her distracted tension was readily apparent -- her face had abruptly paled, and there was a strange wild brightness to her eyes. Kaien glanced down at the folded note in his hand. He held it out to her.

"Read this for me, will ya? I can't seem to keep my eyes straight this morning."

She stared at the note in his hand. With visible reluctance she took it from him and unfolded it.

Kaien watched her scan the paper slowly. "Well?" he prodded.

She did not look up. Instead, she bowed, so low that her hair fell forward like a black curtain.

"My lord," she said, in a voice softer than he had ever heard her speak till then, "I beg your pardon... I cannot... I cannot read these..."

Kaien felt something heavy pull within his chest, pull and drop so heavily that he could not stop himself from leaning closer to her, so close that he could see the way the paper trembled in her hand.

What is she so afraid of?

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, taking the note from her. The familiar handwriting caught his eye and gave him pause. He skimmed the note quickly, folding it afterwards and tucking it inside the loose collar of his robe. Then he stared at her bowed head.

"It's just a message from a friend. He likes to write fancy, that's why there's all these difficult characters. Don't worry," he added confidentially, "half of them I can't even write myself!"

The careless grin on his face froze as she suddenly looked up at him, her eyes flashing with startling fierceness. She looked as if she were about to blurt out something, the expression on her face was so pained. Kaien felt the breath halt in his chest. But at the last moment she bit her lip and averted her face.

"Lord Shiba is being facetious," she said finally, in a voice that wavered. She took a deep breath, her fingers curling into her palms. "It is unnecessary -- the deficiency is mine--"

Her shoulders, the line of her neck, the way her jaw was turned away from him -- she held herself so rigidly that Kaien wondered, wanted to know, what this strain was that weighed so heavily upon her, caused her such sudden anguish. The words she'd choked back, the fear that had her hands trembling earlier and the anger that fired them now -- everything about her was an ever-deepening mystery.

He didn't even know her, and yet...

"Hisana."

After a moment, she turned her head and looked at him.

Reaching back into the collar of his robe, he took out Byakuya's note again and said, "Watch. I bet you've never seen anything like this."

She remained silent, her eyes dark and unsettlingly grave.

Kaien spread the square piece of paper against the tatami. Concentrate, he ordered himself, frowning as he tried to recall the steps. How the hell did it go again -- did he fold this corner first or that one? He groaned inwardly. If Kuukaku were here she'd be beating him up -- how many times had she shown him how to do this?

He decided to wing it, folding the paper the way he thought the final shape should come out. Predictably, what he ended up with was a creased mess.

Ah, dammit.

"My lord," he heard her say then, and he looked up to find her holding out her palm. With a sheepish grin he dropped the mangled paper into her hand. Without comment she smoothed it out against the floor. Then Kaien found himself entranced as he watched her shape the paper with quick, deft folds. A few moments later, a perfect origami crane sat on the tatami, resplendent with the squiggles of Byakuya's calligraphy.

"This," she said softly, "is a crane. What you made earlier, my lord..."

Kaien chuckled. "Well, I did bet you, didn't I?"

"Yes," she agreed after a moment, her eyes still on the paper crane. "Unlike anything I've ever seen."

Then her lips curved tentatively into a smile, shy and slight, and Kaien felt it warm him as he looked at her, this girl who was unlike any he had met before. The strain was now gone from her face; suddenly he wanted very much to make sure that she would never be subject to it again. She picked up the tiny crane from the floor and held it up towards the light -- the fine rice paper wings glowed, pale ivory and veined.

"Lord Shiba, look!" she whispered, her face bright with wonder.

Kaien didn't think he'd ever be able to look away.

.:to be continued:.