Lull: All In One

After the Soul Society arc, the Shinigami have a lot of readjustment and reorganization to do; Renji and Rukia do their share of it and a little more. This arc is based solely on 1-181 of the manga. Canon events after that are either not shown or didn’t happen, for these stories; this arc is, obviously, Divergent Future. Rukia/Renji.

Promise

Knowing the history of Byakuya’s promises, Rukia makes one of her own, and hopes Renji can accept it. Drama with Angst, I-4.

Character(s): Abarai Renji, Kuchiki Byakuya, Kuchiki Rukia, Ukitake Juushirou

Rukia walked to cool down, through the streets and lower courts, circling until she caught her breath and her muscles stopped burning. When her hands finally agreed to close firmly again she climbed up to the roof of the Thirteenth Division offices to watch the sunset. It was a familiar thing to do. She couldn’t decide whether it comforted her or just made her feel more alien now, with everything so changed.

The sunset itself was beautiful, though.

“Ah. I wondered if I would find you up here.” Ukitake-taichou settled, soundlessly, beside her.

“Did you need me for something, Taichou?” Rukia unclasped her arms from around her legs and straightened.

“No, no, relax.” Ukitake-taichou smiled down at her. “No need to spoil the sunset; you always did like coming up here to watch.”

Rukia was worn out enough to take him at his word. They watched the sky until the last hint of teal faded away and the stars were out. Finally, though, Rukia sighed and cupped her hands together, whispering the words for light. She released it over their heads and turned to face her captain. “What is it, Taichou?”

Ukitake-taichou gave her a wry look. “Can’t fool you, can I?” He eyed the captured seed of brightness above them. “I forget, sometimes, just how great a volume of kidou you know. Sometimes I wonder if you shouldn’t have gone into the Second Division, where you’d use more of it on a regular basis.”

Second? Rukia felt a cold grue crawl down her spine. The only division she would less want to be in was the Twelfth! She shook her head. “I’m happy here.”

“That’s good to hear.” Ukitake-taichou leaned back on his hands. “You’ve been practicing with Abarai so much, lately, I was starting to wonder if you wanted to transfer to your brother’s Division.”

“No!” Rukia bit her lip as Ukitake-taichou started upright. Less vehemently, but still firmly, she repeated, “No. I’m happy here. And I wouldn’t do that to him.”

Her captain cocked his head. “Which him?”

Rukia blinked. “… either of them,” she answered after a long pause. She tossed her head as if to shake off her thoughts. “I practice with Renji because he’s the only one who doesn’t treat me like either an avatar or an idiot. Well,” she added, “he does still treat me like an idiot, sometimes, but that’s just Renji.”

“He does seem very fond of you,” Ukitake-taichou chuckled.

Rukia flinched.

“It’s like that, is it?” her captain asked, softly.

Rukia looked away. “I won’t ask Nii-sama to break his promise,” she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. “I won’t put him between his promises again.” If her adoption was the last rule to be broken in the house of Kuchiki… then so be it. Her knuckles whitened.

Ukitake-taichou sighed and reached out to ruffle her hair. “If that’s your choice. Just let me know when you’re ready, then. I’ll clear a court for the day and grab someone from Fourth, for your poor unsuspecting division-mates.”

Rukia stared. Ukitake-taichou laughed out loud. “Oh, come now. It’s obvious what you’ve been training toward.” He smiled at her, gently. “I’m glad to see you’ve finally found the heart to advance seriously.” He stood and stretched. “I’ll look forward to watching.”

“Thank you, Taichou,” Rukia whispered to the breeze he left behind him.

Another day, another walk. This one not to cool down, but to compose herself. She focused on one detail after another, as she walked through the halls of her house. Steps measured. Hands steady. Expression calm. Breathing even. At last she stood at the door of her brother’s room. One more breath.

She knelt and slid the door aside.

Byakuya-nii-sama didn’t move from where he sat looking out into one of the gardens. “You challenged for a higher seat today,” he remarked.

Rukia’s mouth quirked before she schooled her expression again. News had traveled fast. “Yes,” she agreed. “I am now seated third in the Thirteenth Division.” A great ways to advance in a single day. A single, very long, day. She ordered her leg muscles not to start shaking again.

“Good,” her brother stated. “How soon will you rise to fuku-taichou?”

Rukia lifted her head, proudly. “Within two years,” she answered, prompt and firm.

Now, Nii-sama turned his head, brow lifted. Rukia held his gaze, shoulders straight. Perhaps she wasn’t the prodigy that her brother was, and perhaps she hadn’t driven herself as hard as Renji had. At least, she hadn’t used to. But if she had a cause to put her strength toward, she believed she could do it.

A subtle softening passed over her brother’s face. Nothing so overt as a smile, but Rukia brightened to see it. I’ll make our house proud, she assured him silently. I will. I promise.

“Good,” he repeated, voice a shade warmer.

Rukia bowed and withdrew, breaking into a grin as she ran back to her own room.

Rukia was happily off-duty and lying in the grass trying to blow all the fluff off a dandelion when Renji tracked her down.

“So!” he thumped down beside her, cross-legged, sake bottle a smaller thump a second later. “I hear you advanced. About time you got your lazy ass in gear.”

“As if you should talk, Mr. Brow-nosing Social Climber,” she shot back, lazily.

“Me!” he protested. “Who’s the noble house girl, again?”

She grinned at him with a wicked gleam in her eye. “I’m not the one who acts like a noble house-boy.”

“You little,” he sputtered and swatted at her. She ducked, laughing.

“Yep. Little and fast, not a big, clumsy oaf like some people I could mention.”

Renji flopped back in the grass with a groan. “I forgot what a mouth you’ve got on you, when you’re in a good mood.” He took a swig from the bottle and held it out to her. “Here. Drink up. You’ll be too busy to celebrate soon, I bet.” He leaned up on an elbow and eyed her with an evil grin of his own. “You did remember, didn’t you, that Third Seat in your division gets to do all a vice-captain’s work without any of the advantages?”

Rukia tipped the bottle back for a healthy swallow. “Of course I did.” She shrugged. “Ukitake-taichou deserves a break from those two maniacs.”

Renji’s toothy grin softened. “Always you do it for someone else.” He shook his head and snorted. “Well,” he added in a more normal tone, “I bet Kuchiki-taichou was pleased. Not that he’d have said so. No, I bet the first thing he said was ‘So when are you getting the next level?’ Wasn’t it?”

Rukia drew herself up and looked down her nose at him. “It was not.”

“Oh?” Renji arched a skeptical brow.

“It was the second thing he said,” Rukia informed him with dignity. “The first thing he said was ‘Good.'”

“Wow,” Renji marveled with mock-amazement, “he must be going soft in his old age.”

“Maybe he is.” Rukia brushed her fingertips over the now-uneven fluff of the dandelion. “I used to think he didn’t care. Now,” she paused, “now I think he just tries not to.” She folded up her knees and wrapped her arms around them, a little of her old forlorn feeling trying to creep back. “Knowing the whole story… I’m amazed he doesn’t hate me. Can you imagine? Your wife spends her marriage to you distracted by someone else, and then her dying wish is for you to find that someone and take them in?” She shivered.

“Yeah,” Renji agreed, slowly. “That must have hurt.”

Rukia hugged her knees tighter, words becoming muffled. “Why does it seem like everyone misses love by looking the wrong way? They ignore it while they have it, or they don’t notice it when they find it. Or they find it when it’s too late.”

Renji frowned. “Rukia…”

“You know,” she hurried on, “while I was in the human world… I remembered how much I missed having a friend. Someone I trusted enough to yell at and argue with. A real friend.” She looked up, biting her lip. “I missed you.”

Renji’s face was still. “Yeah, me too,” he answered at last, quietly. He leaned back on his hands, staring up at the sky. “You think Kuchiki-taichou trusts anyone?”

He did understand. Rukia gave him a shaky smile of gratitude. “He’s starting to.” She cleared her throat to dislodge the catch in it. “A little.” Her smile steadied. “Hard for even him to deny it after admitting he cares in front of half the captains and vice-captains.”

“Ha!” Renji’s bark of laughter sounded a little like her throat clearing. “If anyone had the brass balls to deny it, it would be him.”

“Yes,” Rukia said, softly. “Nii-sama believes very much in propriety.” Which did not include another commoner marrying a member of Kuchiki. Even if that member had started as a commoner herself. “Pass that bottle over, Renji. Quit hogging the sake.”

“You’re an idiot,” Renji told her, tossing the bottle to her. “Not as much of an idiot as me, but damn close. You always put everyone but yourself first.”

“You can’t put everyone first,” Rukia whispered. “One person has to come before another.” She took a long swallow, letting the burn of alcohol loosen the knot in her chest. “And who says I’m not as much of an idiot as you?” she managed. “You and your competitive streak.”

“In some things, I am indubitably superior,” Renji enunciated, waving a hand to get the bottle back.

Rukia eyed him measuringly. “I suppose I have to let you have this one,” she allowed. “After all, I’m not enough of an idiot to lie with my hand behind my head right next to someone who knows… ” she grinned evilly, “all my ticklish spots.” She darted a hand between them and tickled his ribs.

Renji squawked and flailed. “Damn it, Rukia! That’s cheating! Cut that out!”

Rukia sprang back out of reach, laughing. Renji glared at her, panting for breath. “Not only,” he growled, “do you pull a sneak attack, but you keep all the sake! This means war!”

“Hmmmm.” She pulled a thoughtful face. “So, if I buy you a bottle of your own, will that mean truce?”

Renji hauled himself to his feet, looking as dignified as he could with grass in his hair and a smile twitching at his mouth. “Always knew you’d be good at diplomacy.”

They walked close, as they turned back toward the city, but Rukia noticed Renji was careful not to even brush against her shoulder.

Maybe she’d get another bottle for herself, too.

Nii-sama…

End

Patch

Renji gets an offer and ~~wibbles~~ hesitates over it; Byakuya ~~pounds~~ talks some sense into him. Drama, I-3

Character(s): Abarai Renji, Kuchiki Byakuya, Yachiru

Renji eyed the messenger, entertained, in a detached kind of way, at how out of place he looked in the middle of the muddy practice ground behind the south sixth court. Though Kuchiki-taichou would undoubtedly approve of the poor guy’s formal words and poker-up-the-ass posture.

“… so, that being the case, a quorum of the Thirteen—” the messenger’s voice stumbled, “of the… remaining Thirteen division captains call you before them to receive their acclamation as captain of the Fifth Division.”

Renji’s hand twitched once toward the paper held out by the messenger, before he closed it into a fist by his side.

“I can’t accept it,” he said quietly.

“Then please come at once to… you what?!” The messenger gaped at him, poise blown away. A wry smirk curled Renji’s mouth, imagining his captain’s expression of chilly disapproval, now.

“You deaf?” he prodded. “I can’t accept it.” Humor drained away again, and he added, soft and hard, “Not yet.” The messenger opened and closed his mouth a few times, waving the paper at him, and Renji wheeled around and stuffed his hands into his sleeves to keep from reaching for it after all. “Don’t you have work to be doing?” he growled over his shoulder.

“I… I’ll… take your… your refusal… to the captains then,” the messenger stammered, sounding dazed. “Um. Yes.”

Renji caught some pretty uncomplimentary muttering as the messenger took himself off, and snorted. “I can’t accept it,” he repeated to empty air. “Not yet.”

Lifting his eyes, he caught Kuchiki Byakuya’s expressionless gaze for one moment before his captain was gone from the balcony where he’d been listening.

Renji liked to think that he stayed alert for anything, even when he was at home.

Anything, however, didn’t usually include a tiny brat of a fellow vice-captain landing on his shoulders and pounding him on the head with a small but very hard fist.

“Renji, you idiot!”

“Ow!” Renji’s chin hit the tatami before he managed to haul her off. “Yachiru, what the hell?!”

Yachiru dangled from his fist, glaring at him. “What do you think you’re doing, disobeying your captain’s orders?”

Renji squinted at her, wondering if Rangiku had invited Yachiru over for sake again. He thought they’d all learned better, after last time. “What the hell are you talking about? I haven’t disobeyed orders!” He paused. “Well, not recently.” Then he howled as Yachiru kicked him in the elbow and squirmed out of his grip to stand in front of him with her arms crossed, tapping a toe.

“Your promotion,” she snapped. “Who do you think nominated you?”

Renji blinked at her while his brain worked through what she’d just implied. It took a while. “Kuchiki… taichou?” he said at last, voice thin with disbelief.

“Exactly!” She walloped him another one while he was distracted.

“But,” Renji protested, with his hands over his head, “but I’m not… I still have to…” He stopped as Yachiru’s glare cranked up another notch. When she spoke her voice was very calm and Renji sat up straight. When Yachiru got serious, smart people listened up.

“Three captains are gone. Hisagi can temporarily take the Ninth; they’re shaken, but they all know him and trust him. The Third and Fifth, though,” she shook her head, eyes shadowed. “They’re broken. And Momo and Izuru… they… ” she bit her lip. “Even Unohana-taichou can’t say when she might recover, and he’s… not doing well.” She jammed her fists on her hips and stomped closer, until they were nose to nose. “So quit acting so stupid and take the promotion! It’s your duty to the divisions, and to your captain, who obviously knows which way is up even if you don’t!”

Renji veered off from that last bit and picked something else to argue with. “So they can advance Ikkaku-san,” he told Yachiru, stubbornly. “Anyone can tell he’s half past ready, for all he’s been slacking up till now. And Ayasegawa can go along as his vice-captain. They’d be a good change of pace for the Fifth.”

“They’re moving to the Third, already,” she shot back.

“They should move Rangiku to Third,” he grumbled. “It’d be good for them and for her, both.”

“She’s not ready to move up,” Yachiru said, flatly. “And Hitsugaya-taichou is good for her already. You know she needs someone to look after her.”

Ticking down the list of vice-captains, Renji had to admit that the only people who were really ready to move up were him and Yachiru. And one look at the glint in her eye decided him that he wasn’t crazy enough to suggest that Yachiru leave her captain.

“All right, all right!” he exploded, at last. “Get out of here and leave me alone, you little brat! I’ll think about it.”

Yachiru beamed at him, serious look evaporating. “Sure thing, Rakugaki!” She hopped out his window with a cheerful wave. Renji growled after her. She didn’t have to look so sure she’d won, already, did she?

He sprawled out on his back, staring up at his ceiling blankly. “Taichou,” he murmured. “Did you really?”

Renji spent the next day shooting thoroughly weirded out looks at his captain. It was hard to tell for sure, but he thought Kuchiki-taichou was amused by it.

There was a suspicious lack of any one else getting promoted to the Fifth that made Renji grit his teeth every time he noticed it. Now, on top of his urge to press forward and the pride that demanded he catch Kuchiki-taichou first, he had the urge to be contrary and tell them to all fuck off piled into the mix. It didn’t make for a peaceful day.

When he realized he was thinking about tracking down that Ichigo for a really good fight, Renji decided he had to do something. Maybe he could talk it over with Rukia…

He stormed off to the dojo and yelled at the Captain-General until the old man agreed to a match, instead.

“Finding excuses to slack off of your duties?”

Renji craned his head to see Kuchiki-taichou standing in the doorway before Yamada hauled his chin back around.

“Hold still, Renji-san,” Yamada told him, firmly, shining a light in his eyes.

“I’m fine,” Renji grumbled, trying to bat the light away. “Just got a little knocked around. And I finished the paperwork before I left,” he added to his captain.

Kuchiki-taichou’s eyes narrowed a fraction. Renji stifled a wince. Okay, so the paperwork wasn’t what the Captain was talking about. He hunched up a little, as far as the bandages would let him; it wasn’t that unreasonable that he wanted to kick Kuchiki-taichou’s ass into next week before advancing, he thought mulishly. There were things a man had to do for his own pride.

Yamada smacked him on the shoulder with two fingers, and tried to look stern when Renji goggled at him. “Stop that, Renji-san. I haven’t finished with your ribs yet.” He turned to face Kuchiki-taichou, and Renji figured he was probably the only one close enough to tell that the poor guy’s knees were shaking. “Kuchiki-taichou, your fuku-taichou will be released in two hours.”

Yamada clearly didn’t quite have the guts to tell Kuchiki-taichou to take a hike. Renji didn’t blame him, not with the cold stare he was getting.

“I see.”

Renji snorted as Kuchiki-taichou turned and swept back down the hall, and Yamada slumped against the examining table. “Entire damn place has lost its mind lately,” he muttered, clouting Yamada on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. He’s a stickler for protocol; wouldn’t kill anyone who isn’t in his own division.”

Renji couldn’t help remembering that he was, in fact, in Kuchiki-taichou’s division, when he was released from the clutches of Fourth Division only to find his captain waiting at the door.

“Come,” Kuchiki-taichou ordered, briskly.

Renji followed along, sighing. At least whatever deadly dull penalty job his captain had in mind would probably keep him busy.

They finally stopped at one of the practice fields. Renji, figuring that he was about to be assigned to cut the grass with nail-clippers or something, felt his jaw drop when Kuchiki-taichou undid the bundle under his arm and tossed Zabimaru at him. “Taichou?” he asked, slowly, staring at his zanpaku-tou.

“The Thirteen Divisions have no use for deadwood,” Kuchiki-taichou stated, drawing Senbonzakura.

Renji’s brain scrambled to make sense of the whole situation, but his body already knew this was a fight and was more interested in not dying. He drew Zabimaru. After this long under Kuchiki-taichou, Renji knew for a fact that he was serious. He was always serious. Icicle-bastard.

“Prove that you are not ready, and I will revoke my nomination,” Kuchiki-taichou told him, evenly. “Hold back and I will kill you.

“Scatter…”

Renji came to starting at the sky, covered in slime, with Unohana-taichou standing over him as she sealed her zanpaku-tou. “That was reckless, Kuchiki-taichou,” she scolded, mildly.

“It was necessary,” his voice corrected.

Renji managed to turn his head and squint up at the figure looming on his other side. Kuchiki-taichou looked down at him, detached as always. “Closer,” Renji rasped. “This time.”

One brow tilted slightly. “Perhaps,” Kuchiki-taichou returned. “In any case, my nomination stands. You will report to accept it.” He turned away while Renji was still trying to muster the energy to scowl.

Two steps away, though, he stopped. “I have only fought four others who have come closer since I became captain myself. Stop wasting time arguing your fitness. Abarai-taichou.”

Renji felt his face heat. Oh, he was not… he was not blushing. No. No way. He made an uncomfortable sound, flailing for anything he could say that wouldn’t result in yet more embarrassment. Unohana-taichou had a hand over her mouth, and her eyes were sparkling. Renji squirmed.

Kuchiki-taichou looked over his shoulder. A faint curve marked one corner of his mouth. “Someone to chase, to get stronger, wasn’t it? What made you think that would change? It would take considerably more than a promotion to make you my equal. Work for it.”

Renji stared, and then laughed, and then coughed as the laugh caught on the pain still running through his chest. “Ah,” he gasped, at last. “Then I’ll just have to do more, huh? Taichou.”

Kuchiki-taichou’s dismissive glance, raking him up and down before he turned away again, made Renji hold his stomach as another laugh clawed its way free. He grinned through clenched teeth at his captain’s retreating back.

“More it is, then.”

End

A/N: Rakugaki means scrawl or scribble or graffiti. It seemed a likely nickname for Yachiru to use for Renji.

Tea

Rukia campaigns against her brother’s stoicism. Drama with Fluff, I-2.

Character(s): Izuru Kira, Kuchiki Byakuya, Kuchiki Rukia

Rukia drew some odd looks, marching through the main offices of Sixth Division with a tray of tea. She smiled back, cheerfully, at the ones who seemed most nonplussed, but that only made them edge away from her.

Perhaps “cheerful” plus “determined” was a bit unnerving.

Well, so much the better. Nii-sama should know she meant business. Rukia called her entry at his door and set down her tray beside his desk. “Good evening, Nii-sama.”

Her brother regarded the cup of tea she poured and set in front of him as if it were a new subordinate of questionable ability. “You have your own captain to take care of, Rukia,” he said, at last.

“I already sent Ukitake-taichou home to his tea,” she shrugged. “You’re more stubborn than he is, so I thought I had better bring the tea to you.”

Her brother gave her a cool look. Rukia returned it with a serene one, not giving an inch. Something that might have been amusement and might have been resignation flickered over his face, and Rukia had to stifle a broad grin as he set down his pen and curved his hands around the hot cup. She turned aside to be sure she hid it, pouring another cup for her brother’s new vice-captain.

“I expect you should take a break, too, Kira,” she told him gently. The way she set his cup down squarely on top of the papers he’d been working on was a good deal less gentle. He eyed her, looking rather bemused.

“Thank you…” he started, slowly.

“Rukia,” she broke in, firmly, before he could evolve a properly elaborate form of address for her. “Just Rukia. Rukia-san, if you must; we were classmates, after all. Renji’s right, you know, you’re too formal sometimes.”

A smile twitched at his mouth. “Rukia-san.”

She smiled back, pleased.

Turning, she caught a glint of approval in her brother’s eyes. Kira must have been more withdrawn than she’d though, if Nii-sama’s relief at this small liveliness in his vice-captain overrode his disapproval for Rukia’s informality.

“Rukia. Do not make light of the noble houses,” he reprimanded.

… even for a minute.

“Yes, Nii-sama.” She patted Kira’s hand in reassurance as she turned away. Nii-sama looked slightly taken aback by her calm response, she noted with some satisfaction.

It was a start.

Rukia settled herself on one of the cushions in her room, just a little gingerly. It had been a vigorous training session today, since Ukitake-taichou had gotten Kyouraku-taichou to come work with her. She was grateful, but even a long hot soak hadn’t been able to get rid of all the aches afterwards.

A low voice at her door made her start a little and then wince at the twinges through her shoulders. She blinked at the figure in the doorway. “Nii-sama.”

With a tray of tea.

Rukia smiled as he came to sit with her, accepting a cup carefully. Her hands were still tingling slightly. The heat of the cup soothed them, and she sighed with relief. “Thank you.”

Her brother nodded, quietly. “You’re making good progress,” he said, after a while.

Rukia had to blink back sudden wetness in her eyes. “I want to make you proud, Nii-sama,” she said, just a little husky. She looked down at her tea. “I know it probably hasn’t looked like it, in the past.”

Nii-sama was silent for a long moment. “I believe you will,” he answered, at last.

Rukia took a quick sip of tea to clear her throat. “So. How was your day?”

Nii-sama looked a bit amused at the terribly domestic question, which pleased her.

Rukia leaned in the doorway, watching her brother. To a surface glance, he was the image of tranquility, sitting with a cup of tea and looking out at the stream that ran behind the east wing of the house. It was the tiny, subtle clues that gave him away. Shoulders a little too straight, arms a little too rigid, mouth a lot too tight.

She’d been afraid of him for a long time, seeing his helpless rage and not knowing where it came from or when it might be directed straight at her instead of brushing past. Now…

Rukia came, soft footed, to sit at his side and rested her head, lightly, on his shoulder.

The shoulder under her tensed and she sighed, closing her eyes. Against the back of the lids she saw the three graves of her first family. “I won’t leave you, Nii-sama,” she whispered.

After a still moment he stirred, lifting a hand to rest on her hair. He spoke very quietly. “Don’t make impossible promises.”

“I’m not.” Rukia let her eyes follow the sun-sparks on the water. “I might be taken from you. I know that. But I won’t leave you.”

Nii-sama was still for a moment before he took her shoulder and turned her to face him. He had the most alive look Rukia thought she’d ever seen on his face. Not an entirely happy look; for all that his lips had curved up his eyes were sad. But alive. She lifted a shaking hand and touched her fingertips to his sleeve. He captured the hand in his own.

“Thank you, my sister,” he told her, and Rukia bit her lip at the note of warmth buried in that deep voice.

“Nii-sama…” She took a quick breath. “Will you come walk with me, for a little?”

It wasn’t until she had him out in the sunshine on the other side of the stream that she let herself grin, for the half-cup of tea he had left haphazardly on the excruciatingly neat floor behind him.

End

Marks of Time

Renji deals with his new job, and the echos of his old one. Drama, I-3

Character(s): Abarai Renji, Kuchiki Byakuya

Renji collapsed into his desk chair with a groan. “Who knew I’d ever appreciate paperwork?” he muttered, slumping over. Paperwork, at least, didn’t explode or kill anyone or change into weird, unpredictable hybrids. It was peaceful and unassuming and just sat there, not making any trouble or even (directly) demanding anything.

A tentative tap came at the door, and he glared at it. He knew he should have taken the time to barricade it. “What now?” he growled. His vice-captain stuck his head, with exaggerated caution, around the frame.

“The eighth squad is back,” Tsumura reported quickly. “They’re all in good shape.”

Renji felt a bit of tension unwind from his shoulders. Of all the good and bad aspects to his new job, the one he hated worst was having to wait, so often, to hear back about the people he sent out. Especially hunting Hollows that made it here, into Soul Society. It didn’t help at all that Rikichi, the little idiot, was in eighth squad.

If he had ever doubted that Kuchiki would find a way to punish him for his rampant insubordination during the craziness over Rukia, he didn’t doubt it any longer.

“Is that everyone?” he asked, frowning.

Reassured that his captain was too exhausted to do any yelling today, Tsumura came into the offices and shut the door behind him. “Yes, that’s everyone back and accounted for. I have their reports,” he waved a fresh sheaf of papers, and then eyed the stack already on Renji’s desk. “Shall I see to them?”

“No, give ’em here. You can take care of the damn requisitions.” Renji traded off paper piles with a toothy if tired grin at Tsumura’s woeful look. Material requisitions was the most boring and most never-ending paper stack of the whole lot.

Sorting out what could be filed straight off and what needed to be passed on to other divisions, on the other hand, was soothing. Monotonous but soothing. The steady scratch and shuffle from the other desk helped. In fact, it helped so much Renji found himself rubbing his eyes.

“Taichou,” Tsumura said at last, quietly, “I can take care of the rest of this. You should get some rest.”

“I’ll just have to read them later anyway.” Renji clenched his teeth on a yawn. “And if I get behind on them I’ll never catch up; there are more every day.”

Tsumura frowned, dark and sudden. That was unusual enough, in his sunny vice-captain, that Renji paused with brows raised.

“There are,” Tsumura said slowly. “Abarai-taichou… does it seem to you that Fifth is getting more assignments than the other divisions?”

Renji leaned back in his chair, considering. He’d been putting the frantic pace down to his nervousness about his new position, but looking at it objectively there were more than he’d been used to seeing with Sixth Division. “Could be,” he agreed, thoughtfully. “Kind of hard on you and me, but it does keep everyone else busy and distracted. That might even be why.”

“Oh.” Tsumura relaxed and brightened again. “Of course; I should have thought of that. The Captain-General is very thoughtful.”

Someone was thoughtful, Renji decided, as Tsumura bent over his papers again. As for who it was and what they were thinking… he’d find that out.

“Kuchiki-taichou?!”

The Captain-General blinked at Renji benignly. “Yes, of course. I thought you knew. But perhaps Byakuya-kun didn’t want his protégé influenced by expectations.”

“Protégé?” Renji stared with his jaw hanging open. He hadn’t just heard that. Really, he hadn’t.

But why the hell would Kuchiki be doing this? What did he gain by pushing Renji to do more than any other newly promoted captain was expected to? To do…

…more.

Renji’s eyes narrowed, glaring at air that he fondly imagined filled by his ex-captain.

“Excuse me, Captain-General,” he gritted between his teeth.

“Of course.” The glint of amusement in the old man’s eyes didn’t help Renji’s temper in the least as he stalked out. By the time he left the inner courts he was running, and by the time he slammed open the door of the Sixth’s practice floor he was ready to breathe fire.

Kuchiki-taichou paused in his solitary practice, glancing aside at the intruder with every bit of his usual chill disinterest. “Abarai-taichou.”

“Just who the hell appointed you my career manager?” Renji bit out.

Kuchiki’s eyes narrowed. “Are you ready to challenge me again, then, Renji?”

Renji jerked back, stung. It was completely unfair to turn his own determination, his own promise to himself, around on him like that, especially after forcing him to compromise it. He fumed. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered at last, with deep conviction.

“Come back when you are, then.” Kuchiki-taichou turned his gaze back ahead and took the next gliding step in his form.

Renji growled low in his throat. “I will.” He strode back out, vibrating with thwarted frustration.

“… and last, the Divisions extend their recognition and thanks to Abarai for bringing the Fifth back up to full strength and more. That’s all. You are dismissed.”

Renji spared a fulminating look for the Captain-General before he had to turn away to deal with Kurotschi’s needling and Kyouraku’s knowing grin.

“You’ve got no idea how glad I am it’s you, now, instead of me,” Hitsugaya muttered in passing. If Renji had been able to spare the time and attention he could have explained at length that he had a very damn good idea. The shreds of his dignity barely kept him from grabbing Ikkaku-san, who was tiptoeing out the door, by the back of his coat and hauling him back into the hall to face his fair share of the successful-new-captain attention.

On the other hand, Ikkaku-san didn’t have Kuchiki Byakuya driving him on. Renji slipped an evil look at his ex-captain only to stop dead, blinking, as Kuchiki… smiled? Yes. He was smiling. Not much but enough for anyone who’d spent a lot of time around him to see it.

Renji shook himself and turned away with a snort. Protégé. What a load of crap.

At this rate, he’d start believing Rukia when she said the icicle-bastard really did have a heart.

He firmly ignored the tiny warmth in his chest that answered Kuchiki-taichou’s faint smile of approval.

End

Only A Story

Byakuya and Rukia speak of regrets and possibilities. Drama with Romantic Angst, I-4.

Character(s): Kuchiki Byakuya, Kuchiki Rukia

“Tell me about Hisana.”

It was starting to have the comfort of ritual, for them. Rukia thought of it, irreverently, as her bedtime story. Whenever she and her brother shared an evening, she asked.

“She loved growing things,” Nii-sama said, tonight. Perhaps the gardens had brought it to mind, for him; Rukia had insisted he come tell her what kind of flower was blooming, tiny and blue, on one of the bushes. He trailed his fingers through the leaves and flowers, releasing more of the light, sweet scent into the evening. “Many of these, she chose.”

Rukia smiled, kneeling by the bush. She liked finding things she had in common with her sister. Though she doubted she’d ever have the patience to actually choose and arrange a garden.

“Her love of life was more contained than yours.”

Rukia looked up just a bit guiltily, wondering how much of her thought had shown on her face. Nii-sama wasn’t watching her, though; his eyes were distant.

“I’ve often thought that was why she died, in the end,” he said, voice fading into the dusk. Rukia bit her lip. When he finally looked down at her his eyes were sharp again, though. “How much theory of spirit and form did you have before I took you from the Academy?”

“I had the basic course. I was thinking of the advanced one, but…” Rukia shrugged. “Ukitake-taichou taught me a little more.”

Nii-sama’s tone turned precise and scholarly, the way it did when he explained anything. Rukia hid a smile; she sometimes thought it was a shame that he couldn’t have become a teacher. Though he’d have scared his fainter-hearted students half to death, no doubt. “In the human world, spirit is a function of bodies. In our world, bodies are a function of spirit,” he began, and she nodded. That axiom she was familiar with. “Even among humans, regret and despair can kill, if they’re strong enough. Among us…” Rukia’s eyes widened and she reached up to touch her brother’s hand. “They do not have to be as strong,” he finished. His fingers tightened on hers for a breath.

“The stronger the sense of spirit and self, the greater the power,” he continued eventually. “What you may not have learned is that those two things do not always go together. Hisana had a strong spirit. Her sense of self, though, was… injured.” He looked down at Rukia, and the tight line of his mouth softened. “You are strong in both.”

Rukia stood and gazed up at him solemnly. “I won’t leave you.”

An unaccustomed hint of humor quirked up the corner of his mouth and his hand brushed her shoulder as he stepped past her. “You’re also more stubborn,” he remarked. “Though perhaps I’m not one who should say it, when we’re speaking of Hisana. It was my own stubbornness that brought us together. Even had I not been the head of the house, even had I been able to marry, more properly, from the house to be with her… that kind of thing is only appropriate with a spouse of high rank. Or sufficient honor.”

There was something in his tone, tonight, a weight of meaning, of implication, that was unusual. Stubbornness, propriety, marriage from the house… a spouse of sufficient honor. Rukia stared at his back as she worked through the parallel he might be offering her. “Nii-sama,” she managed, at last.

His voice was soft. “The fact that you are strong enough to bear regrets does not mean that I wish you to do so, Rukia.”

She came to his side, then, and caught his sleeve, leaning her head against his shoulder. “Either way, there are regrets,” she whispered.

His arm came up around her lightly, silently, in the dusk.

End

Stare at the Sun

Renji catches a glimpse of Rukia dealing with her own new position. Drama with some Angst, I-3

Character(s): Abarai Renji, Kuchiki Rukia, Ukitake Juushirou

“Are you sure it isn’t a problem to do this right now?”

Not, Renji had to admit, that the Thirteenth Division seemed any less motivated because their captain was sitting on the sidelines talking personnel instead of directing. At least not the handful of squads involved in this exercise. The shinigami side chased the Hollow side good and sharp.

Maybe it had something to do with who was standing in for Ukitake-taichou. Renji thought he’d probably jump, too, if Rukia was barking at him like that.

It was good to know she hadn’t lost any of the edge off her vocabulary after all those years in a noble house.

His grin lingered as he turned back to Ukitake, who was waving a dismissive hand.

“No problem at all. Might as well get some work done while I’m sidelined.” He frowned a bit. “Are you sure you want to let this one transfer, though? With his battle record…?”

“Very,” Renji growled before he could stop himself. “I mean… ! I’m sure I’ll be able to work around it. That’s a captain’s job, right?” He didn’t think his attempt at a hearty laugh fooled anyone. Ukitake’s eyes were twinkling, for pity’s sake. Renji sighed, wondering who else he could palm off Sukikase on. He’d already been in and out of all the other Divisions. Back to Eleventh, maybe, and hope Zaraki killed the man, this time?

“Captain!” A booming bass exclamation interrupted them. “I have the medication you left behind today! Please accept this sign of my great respect!”

A screech answered. “Kotsubaki, you cheater! I was going to say that! Give me that bottle, I’ll deliver it to the Captain!”

Ukitake sighed, and Renji eyed the approaching scuffle. He really, really hoped Ukitake wasn’t as evil-minded as, say, Rukia, for example, was. Because if he were then he’d offer to trade these two for Sukikase.

Rukia’s head swiveled to fix the pair with a stare to do a basilisk proud. “Kotsubaki! Kotetsu!” Her voice cracked out like a whip.

Even Ukitake jumped a little, and his two fourth seat officers froze—with Kotsubaki’s hand jammed in Kotetsu’s face to hold her off while she flailed for the bottle and Kotetsu’s foot drawn back to kick him in the shins. They blinked at Rukia.

“You embarrass our division and our captain, acting like this,” she rapped out.

They wilted under her stern look, shooting hangdog glances at Ukitake as they shuffled upright, straightening their uniforms.

“Yes, Rukia-san. Sorry.”

“My apologies, Rukia-san.”

Renji had to stifle a laugh, and a comment of Bossy as ever. Those two looked like little kids called on the carpet for getting their best clothes muddy or something. And then their expressions changed, and he started.

Kotetsu gained a small, shy smile. Kotsubaki looked down at his toes before glancing back up, and Renji could swear he was blushing. He turned to look at Rukia, wondering if she’d cast some spell he’d never heard of on them.

And maybe it was magic, but it wasn’t one he didn’t know. Rukia was smiling at them, gentle and warm. A fond look that lit up the air around her like the sun had suddenly come out.

“Why don’t you two go help the Hollow side?” she suggested, taking the medicine with, he couldn’t help noting distantly, a thief’s deft snatch. “I think the shinigami side is having too easy a time.” She deposited the bottle beside Ukitake and herded Kotsubaki and Kotetsu off to join the exercise.

Renji sat down with a thump.

“Abarai-kun?” Ukitake asked, mid-swig. “You look like you could use some of this stuff yourself. Is something wrong?”

“She used to smile like that.” It came out in a whisper as he stared after Rukia, feeling like he couldn’t catch his breath. “She used to.” Before they became shinigami, before she was Kuchiki, before…

Ukitake cocked his head, hair sliding over his shoulder. “So?” he said, softly. “Now she does again? She’s gained things. Family. Friends. That’s something to smile about, isn’t it?”

Family. A brother; Nii-sama. And friends. Best friends; just friends. The words echoed in his head, and the echos hit him like rocks, and Renji turned a glare on Ukitake only to find Ukitake’s eyes dark and serious, not mocking at all. Renji turned away sharply. “Yeah, it is.” He cleared his throat, hoping to clear the harshness from his tone. “So about this transfer.”

“I’ll take him,” Ukitake agreed. “As long as Kuchiki is here, Thirteenth can handle all its problem children just fine.”

Renji’s mouth curled in an unwilling smirk. “Yeah, I’ll bet.”

She was back, he told himself, sternly, as they scrawled signatures on all the necessary lines. The Rukia he had grown up with was back, here in the middle of the Court of Pure Souls, kicking ass and taking names and besotting everyone around her again, and he had no place being upset about a freaking miracle having taken place.

Even if he wasn’t the one who had made it happen.

End

Chocolate and Flowers

Byakyua watches Renji and Rukia, and tries to plan a future. Drama with Maybe Romance, I-3

Character(s): Abarai Renji, Kuchiki Byakuya, Kuchiki Rukia, Kyouraku Shunsui

Byakuya stood in the shadow of a roof peak, watching his sister and her suitor.

Not that she would call him her suitor. Rukia didn’t take enough care for her own interests at times. Well, that was his business, as her brother, to look after.

When he could.

He pushed the thought away with an impatient toss of his head and stilled himself to watch again.

It never failed to amuse him how hesitant Renji was with Rukia, sometimes, as if he thought her fragile. On at least one occasion he’d seen Rukia hit him over the head for it.

They played like children.

Well, perhaps not quite like children, he amended, watching with a certain pleasure as Rukia, the chased in their current game of tag, ambushed Renji with a cleverly held binding spell. But they weren’t chasing each other for practice, today. When they practiced together they were more serious.

Renji was more serious much of the time, now, which also gave Byakuya some pleasure. For a long time, Renji had walked at his heels, as if tame, always watching but never challenging.

He was no longer tame, and thus became worthy of consideration.

And Rukia wished to consider him; wished, even, to accept him. That much was clear, to Byakuya if not to Renji. But she held herself to the standards of her House.

To her brother’s standards. To her brother’s side.

And in doing so, she sacrificed this love of hers. Byakuya, as the head of Kuchiki, could only approve of her choice. It was proper and fitting to her place in the House. But when he watched the brightness in her eyes as she sat beside him in the evenings, he knew that was not her reason. She chose for his sake alone—to put his conscience and sense of duty at ease. Watching her laugh, as Renji barely evaded her and left his hair-band in her hands, Byakuya had to swallow guilt that she denied herself exactly the choice he had made for himself.

“Not going to stop them?” a new voice prodded from behind him. “Call her away from the low-life?”

Byakuya rigidly suppressed a twitch. Kyouraku, he reminded himself, liked to get a rise out of anyone who looked imperturbable. Byakuya felt vindicated, once again, in his choice not to have Rukia placed in Kyouraku’s division, despite the fact that Ise Nanao would have made a good role model.

“Or are you planning to throw her to him?” Kyouraku continued, when Byakuya didn’t answer. “Have you really gotten that much political savvy?”

That got a raised brow. “What?”

“Didn’t think so,” Kyouraku sighed, bracing an overly familiar elbow on Byakuya’s shoulder as he leaned forward to watch Rukia tackle Renji, to very little effect, below them. “I swear, Rukia-chan practices better politics and diplomacy just by breathing than you ever could by making speeches.”

Speeches? Byakuya gave his fellow captain a chilly look. What was the man talking about?

“Not that you ever would,” Kyouraku allowed, in face of the disdain directed at him. “But the point stands. People gather to Rukia-chan. She can bring together the most unlikely sorts.”

Considering how his sister seemed to be handling Kotetsu Kiyone and Kotsubaki Sentarou, Byakuya had to admit that this was undeniably true.

“Which is a good thing, considering how many of our captains come from Rukongai, these days,” Kyouraku continued, in a meditative tone. “It’ll be interesting to see who all winds up in the Chamber of Forty-six, this time.”

Byakuya stiffened.

“Well! It was nice talking at you again, Byakuya-kun.” Kyouraku gave him a hearty clap on the shoulder that failed to budge him, and was gone.

Byakuya forced his breathing even, staring blindly down at the two below him. Kyouraku couldn’t possibly think that commoners would enter… that the noble houses would have to makes such accommodations…

Surely not.

Others might, though. And Byakuya’s gaze downward sharpened. If others thought so… perhaps there was a way. A way to keep his sister and yet give her what she wanted so much.

Renji turned at bay and caught Rukia against him, for a moment, and their play drowned in a long stare before they both broke away and looked elsewhere.

Perhaps.

End

Conspiracy

Ukitake and Kyouraku discuss the general success of their plans. Drama, I-2

Character(s): Kyouraku Shunsui, Ukitake Juushirou

Juushirou leaned back with a sigh, waving off the fourth cup of sake Kyouraku offered. “Do you really think this is going to work out?” he asked, frowning.

“Of course it will.” Kyouraku emptied his own cup. “Rukia-chan is brilliant at this kind of thing.” His eyes glinted under the mess of his hair as he slanted a small smile at Juushirou. “Kind of like you; after all, how many other people can actually call themselves Byakuya-kun’s friend? Besides,” somehow a full cup was in Juushirou’s hand again, “she has powerful potential but she just doesn’t think like a warrior. That whole mess with the Kurosaki boy would never have happened if she did. This will be the best thing for her.”

Juushirou took a distracted sip of sake, and paused as the taste on his tongue reminded him that he’d been going to stop. He gave his friend a rueful glance. “Yes, well, you’re not bad at it, yourself, one on one at least.” His lips quirked. “Though I’m not sure you could have been more obvious with Byakuya unless you’d hit him over the head with a hammer.”

“He’s got a thick skull when it comes to new things.” Kyouraku’s airy wave didn’t spill a drop. “Now. How long before you think Rukia-chan will be ready?”

“She’ll be promoted, formally, within the next year, at this rate,” Juushirou mused. “Give her a little time as a vice captain, to become better known to the officers of other divisions. Hmm. I don’t think we can really expect to get her appointed in less than five years.” He chuckled, remembering. “Not that she isn’t capable, now. You should have been there yesterday. I’ve never seen anyone besides Unohana herself calm Isane down that fast.”

Kyouraku grinned. “That’s our Rukia-chan.”

Juushirou rested a meditative look on the water visible through his open door. “Can we keep this up, though? You know Genryuusai-sensei doesn’t like the Court Guardians interfering in politics.”

Kyouraku snorted into his cup at this perennial reminder. “It’s a little late for that, now. As soon as the Forty-six were murdered we were all in it up to our necks. The old stick-in-the-mud just doesn’t want to admit it.” Exasperation and affection mixed about equally in his face as he grabbed the sake jug. Juushirou smiled.

“Perhaps he’s just cranky because the crisis interrupted his retirement plans,” he offered. “I still think he was planning to pass the title on, in the next century or so. And he certainly can’t choose either of us for that, now, no matter how right we turned out to be.”

Kyouraku’s eyes softened into the speculative haze that usually preceded his most innovative and trouble-making ideas. Juushirou braced himself.

“It’s really to bad that the Kurosaki boy is still living as a human. He’d be a great successor as Captain-General,” Kyouraku murmured, dreamily. “Him for the militant side, and Rukia-chan for the basic ruling and policy. He’s got charisma to match hers, in his own way. It’d be the perfect division of talents.”

Juushirou stared at him, wide-eyed. “Kurosaki…” he repeated, a bit weakly, “as Captain-General…”

“Well,” Kyouraku said reasonably, “he does think like a warrior, his potential is ridiculously high, and his allegiance to the shinigami is unshakeable. He’s the star of Rukia-chan’s portfolio, on that count.”

Juushirou gave in and held out his cup, wordlessly. Kyouraku grinned as he refilled it.

“Still,” Juushirou persisted, a bit raspily having tossed back the entire cup in one go, “you think the Kuchikis will get through this in one piece? I shudder to imagine how Byakuya-kun will choose to go about it, now he’s got the idea in his head.” He paused, considering. “And I shudder even more to imagine how Rukia will react.”

“She’s his match in stubbornness,” Kyouraku agreed easily, “but she couldn’t manage to kill him yet. I’m pretty sure.”

“You’re so reassuring,” Juushirou muttered.

Kyouraku’s laughter floated out over the water.

End

Easier

Renji broods on his relationship to the Kuchiki family. Drama, I-2

Character(s): Abarai Renji

Life would be so much easier if he could just hate the bastard.

Hate him for being a cold fish. For having stifled Rukia’s light, her life, for so long. For having damn near killed her with his idiotic, stick-up-the-ass notion of a noble’s honor.

Hate him for not giving a damn about the rest of the world. For not even noticing anyone without a noble name. For his terrifying strength and infuriating sureness.

It would be easier.

It just wouldn’t work.

Renji leaned back on his roof, folding his arms behind his head, watching a puff of cloud creep across the sky.

Nothing was ever easy, with Kuchiki Byakuya. Rukia had been hurt already, when he’d taken her in, and he’d only hurt her worse. Renji was still angry about that. But he couldn’t deny that it was Kuchiki who had healed Rukia, too.

On especially sympathetic days, Renji could even admit that if he had had Rukia and then lost her, the way her sister had gone, he might have gotten just as irrational as Kuchiki. Possibly even for just as long.

Days that sympathetic didn’t happen very often, but they did happen.

Which might just be the part that infuriated him the most.

This was Kuchiki Byakuya they were talking about, after all. The captain who’d treated Renji like a handy piece of furniture for putting paperwork on. The man who blithely assumed Renji would obey his every order without question.

Actually, no, Renji decided, what pissed him off the most was that he’d been chicken enough to let it go on for so long. After all, it was obvious, now, that Kuchiki would give him a measure of respect if Renji stood his ground and didn’t back down.

Ok, so he’d nearly died finding that out. If that were pointed out to Kuchiki-taichou, he’d probably give the person The Eyebrow and call it having standards. The thought made the corners of Renji’s mouth curl up.

And that made him groan and bang his head against the roof tiles a few times.

Never, ever, easy.

He sighed and pulled a piece of paper out of his sleeve, flicking it open one more time. It was a request, albeit a damned stiff-necked one, for his presence at the Kuchiki compound. A request, not an order.

And that alone guaranteed he’d be there, more surely than any order might have when Kuchiki was still his captain.

Renji stuffed the paper back away with a growl. It would be so much easier…

End

Resolve

Byakuya causes there to be romance, like it or not. Fiat Romance, I-3

Character(s): Abarai Renji, Kuchiki Byakuya, Kuchiki Rukia

Pairing(s): Rukia/Renji

The last thing Rukia expected to see, when she was summoned to her brother’s rooms on one of her afternoons off, was Renji sitting beside him, stiff as a board, uncomfortable and looking clueless. Having finally learned a little about how to get around her brother, though, she took a seat on the third pillow lying out without asking anything.

In retrospect, it was obvious that she hadn’t been the only sibling learning how to handle the other.

“Rukia,” her brother said, without preamble, “Abarai Renji, captain of the Fifth Division, wishes to marry you. Given his accomplishments, and the current leadership balance of Soul Society, I judge that this would be a good alliance for our house. Prepare yourself for your betrothal a month from today.”

It took Rukia a few moments to process what he had actually said. When she did she turned a blistering glare on Renji. After the hell she’d gone through to reach some peace with her decision… Her hand clawed at her waist for her absent zanpaku-tou.

“It wasn’t my idea! I didn’t say a thing!” Renji protested, waving his hands in vehement denial, eyes wide.

“Then what,” Rukia growled, “gave him such an asinine idea?” She pointed a violent finger at her brother.

He set a hand over it, pressing hers down. “Recall your manners, Rukia,” he told her severely, “and your position. You are of Kuchiki, and you have a duty to me as the head of this House. And I,” he added with a stern look, “have a duty to the House as a whole.”

Rukia stared at him. Wasn’t it duty to the House that kept she and Renji apart? “Nii-sama, what… why… what are you thinking?” she finally burst out.

Her brother’s face was expressionless. “The influence of the common-born among us begins to approach that of the noble houses. Balance must be maintained. You will marry out of the House, of course. But you will keep the name that is yours, Rukia. Kuchiki Rukia. Keep it and remember the House that you belong to.”

Rukia sank back, arrested by the phrase marry out of the house. She remembered the conversation she and her brother had had in the garden one evening, about regrets and stubbornness, and spouses and honor. Her heart couldn’t decide whether to stop beating or to race. “Nii-sama…”

Her brother rose. “This is my order, my sister. I am the head of your House. You will do as I say.” His only concession to the softness of her voice was the brush of his fingers over her hair as he passed her. He paused in the door, back to them. “Though, it being you, I will not be surprised if you return frequently, in an attempt to continue the argument with me.”

The door closed with the barest whisper of sound behind him.

Rukia laughed, small but true, and scrubbed a hand over her eyes, hard.

“Rukia?” Renji asked, cautiously.

“Looks like we’re getting betrothed,” she told him, casual tone not completely successful. She did manage something close to a grin, though. “Figures a girl would have to be ordered to marry you.”

For once, Renji didn’t rise to the bait. His eyes were serious as he asked, “What did you to really just say to each other?”

Rukia’s smile was turning watery, despite her best efforts. “That he’s always my brother,” she answered, softly.

Renji looked at her for a long moment. “Well of course he is,” he said at last. His tone was gentler than his words, and when he rested a hand on her shoulder she leaned into it.

She did shoot one last dire glare at him, even though the film of tears. “Don’t you dare think this means you can coddle me.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it the first time,” he murmured, pulling her against his chest. “You and him,” he added as she finally let herself cry, worry and happiness and stress and release all wrapped up in saltwater. “You’re two of a kind, these days. You used to know how to let yourself feel things, Rukia.” A chuckle rumbled through him. “Looks like you taught him how to be something besides an icicle, though, even if he isn’t very good at it yet, so I bet you think it’s a fair trade.”

“It is a fair trade,” she insisted into his damp shoulder. She managed an even breath and chuckled with a hint of teasing coming back into it. “Though I guess he did get a bargain. After all, he traded me you.”

“Oh, right, make it sound like I’m some kind of second-hand clothing,” he protested, indignantly. He was grinning when she looked up, though, eyes brightening as the point of the whole interview finally started to register.

Though the brightness was underrun by a thread of wry exasperation.

“Only he would be so roundabout,” Renji muttered, brushing her cheek dry.

Rukia shrugged. “He’s like that. But it’s his stubbornness that found a way for us, too. I…” she bit her lip. “I didn’t believe there was one.” In answer to that, Renji’s arms tightened around her until she gasped. “Renji, you big oaf, not so tight!”

“You can’t expect me to let go now,” he said, voice rough, not lifting his face from her hair.

Rukia smiled, leaning against him again. “No. You don’t have to let go.”

They were still sitting there when the housekeeper came in to light the lamps after sunset.

End

A/N: Based on my best guesses from the sources available, this kind of marriage-arrangement, in which a highly ranked daughter is married off for alliance purposes but retains her home-clan affiliation (her name), would be fairly unusual but not unheard of or ‘against the rules’. Especially for the first noble family. This also works on the assumption that the Court of Pure Souls more or less runs on the Sengoku-esque political practice that military rank equals de facto nobility, and the degree of nobility depends on how high a rank is achieved. And how many people the individual can get to agree to his re-written geneology. Admittedly, the first practice is more a Heian sort of thing. Think Fujiwara meets Toyotomi Hideoshi. *evil smile* The results should be kind of similar.

Representatives

Rukia and Renji, and, in fact, most of Soul Society, prepare; plotting continues. Drama with Romance, I-3

Character(s): Abarai Renji, Kuchiki Rukia, Kyouraku Shunsui, Ukitake Juushirou

Pairing(s): Rukia/Renji

Two weeks before the betrothal, Rukia found herself drawing duties that could be done well even with a distracted mind. She couldn’t decide whether she was amused or annoyed. Today she was on, she thought, a perfectly innocent walk with her captain, escorting him to see Unohana-taichou.

Or she would have thought it was innocent, except that they kept just happening to pass doors and windows in time to hear gossip about her coming engagement. She was starting to wonder about Ukitake-taichou’s apparent taste for eavsdropping. Suspicion, of course, didn’t keep her from listening.

Rangiku-san’s throaty chuckle caught her ear from the window ahead of them. “I never thought I’d be a mother,” she was saying, sounding amused.

“Could be worse,” Hitsugaya answered absently. “They could have chosen one of us to stand as his father, too, and it would almost have had to be Zaraki, and that…” The rest of the sentance was lost in Rangiku-san’s gales of laughter. “Anyway,” he continued, with an edge of irritation that probably meant he was glaring at his vice captain, “the whole thing just drips with politics. I suppose we all could have guessed that Kuchiki would use an adopted sister as a pawn. Probably would have even if she were his blood sister.”

Rukia stiffened.

“I don’t think that’s all it is,” Rangiku-san said, slowly, as they passed out of ear-shot.

Rukia fumed over the insult to her brother for another few steps, only to break off in surprise when she caught a glimpse of Ukitake-taichou’s expression. Her captain looked extremely smug.

“Taichou?” she asked, eyeing him.

The smugness vanished instantly into complete innocence, which only made her more suspicious than ever.

“I’m just pleased to know that Matsumoto-san, at least, is aware of your genuine feelings. And Renji-kun’s,” he assured her.

“Of course,” Rukia murmured. It was time, she decided, to start keeping an eye out for hidden motives, lest she get caught up unawares in someone else’s scheme.

Again.

Scratching at her window brought Rukia’s gaze up from the… script her brother had given her to read. A quick glance at the clock told her who it probably was, and, sure enough, as soon as she slid the window open, Renji hopped over the sill.

He immediately started pacing.

“Can you believe this?” he asked with hushed outrage, waving a handful of papers. “Little bitty fake trees? A tortise? Yet more sake?!” He thumped down to sit on the floor, glaring at the innocent paper. “With this much sake moving around, why the hell can’t we get more of it to actually drink? I, for one, will need it. Three changes of clothing? I mean… three?” He looked up at her with entreaty. “Are you sure I can’t just stay the third morning?”

Rukia leaned against the sill, grinning. “Sure you can.” She waited for hope to dawn before going on. “As long as you’re the one to go around and tell everyone involved that they’ve planned all this for nothing. Including Nii-sama, of course. Besides,” she added, as he glared, “I have five changes, and all my robes have more layers, so what are you complaining about?”

Renji slumped back, glowering at thin air. “It’s embarrassing,” he growled, at last.

Since they’d already covered the gifts, the salutes, and the clothes, Rukia decided he probably meant the company. “I know Rangiku-san is standing as your mother,” she mused. “Who’s chosen to stand as your father?”

Renji slumped down a little further, and muttered, “The Captain-General.”

Rukia choked back a burst of laughter at the mental image. “Ah,” she managed, voice slightly strained, “well, he is the logical choice to, er, take responsibility for a captain…” Renji growled some more, and she relented, kicking a pillow over beside him to sit down on. “It could be worse,” she offered. “They got Shiba Kuukaku to stand as my mother.” She contemplated the prospect of Shiba-san and Nii-sama sitting side by side for any length of time and shuddered.

When she glaced at Renji, though, he was frowning, more serious than he had been while he was complaining.

“Maybe Kira has a point about the politics thing,” he muttered.

Rukia stilled. If Renji was seeing it, too… “What about it?” she asked, abandoning the scripts and dressing directions.

Renji crossed his legs and leaned forward, elbows on his knees, while he counted off on his fingers. “Kuchiki, head of the first noble family; Shiba, head of the noble family furthest outside, the most rebellious; the Captain-General, the only real authority left to the Court; Rangiku, the most senior commoner officer, if you go by tenure instead of rank.” He looked at Rukia, eyes narrow. “And then there’s you and me. A commoner Captain, and the adopted noble. This thing sounds like the roll call for some diplomatic meeting.”

“Every faction represented,” Rukia agreed, slowly. “For a marriage. An… alliance of factions. And you and I the result of it.” They looked at each other silently for a long time.

“Rukia,” Renji said, at last, quietly, “what is your brother trying to do?”

Nii-sama? No. Rukia smiled, as the question answered itself in her heart. “Nii-sama is finding an excuse for me to be happy. He’d never believe an alliance like that would really be neccessary.”

Renji snorted, relaxing. “You have a point, there.”

Rukia’s voice chilled and hardened. “That doesn’t mean someone else might not be using my brother’s insistence on tradition and appearances to get what they want.”

Renji’s eyes measured her, and he nodded. “Who?” His tone had darkened to match hers, and Rukia smiled.

“We’ll find out.”

“Rukia, are you sure?”

Since Renji didn’t hesitate at all, walking beside her, Rukia thought he might be asking for her sake rather than from any doubts. “I’m sure that Ukitake-taichou and Kyouraku-taichou are the ones I’ve seen looking happiest about the betrothal. Whether they’re happy for us or for themselves… is what we’re here to find out.”

There wasn’t time for anything more. Kyouraku-san strolled out of Ukitake-taichou’s lake rooms and gave them a lazy smile. “Rukia-chan! Here to see your captain?” He cocked his head. “Why don’t Renji-kun and I let you two talk, then?” He sauntered past, heading back toward the shore. “Surely you have time for a cup or two with me, Renji-kun?”

Rukia wavered in face of his friendly, conversational strong-arming, poised between letting Kyouraku dictate this much and seeing where he was headed, and a more familiar urge to refuse. To balk, and force this dance of secrets and implications over on its side so she could see what it was. Renji’s hand closed on her shoulder, and she glanced up to see a question in his eyes. He would follow her choice, on this.

His trust steadied her confidence. “If you don’t mind, Kyouraku-taichou,” she murmured. “I’m sure you and Renji can entertain each other?”

Renji’s hand tightened before he let go and sauntered to join Kyouraku-san. “Sure we can.”

Rukia nodded and stepped forward into Ukitake-taichou’s rooms, only to pause and blink. Ukitake-taichou was flopped back against a cushion, rubbing his forehead.

“Please forgive Kyouraku, Kuchiki,” he said, a bit muffled. “He doesn’t mean to be infuriating all the time; it’s just habit.”

“This is more serious than just annoying Ise-san because he thinks she’s pretty when she’s mad,” Rukia pointed out, dryly. “Isn’t it?”

Her captain looked up at her, eyes dark but also clear. “Yes,” he agreed soberly, “it is.”

Rukia chewed on her lip for a moment, watching him, before she came inside and sat down across from him. “Taichou. What are you doing?” she asked quietly.

“We are hoping to see you happy,” Ukitake-taichou smiled. There was a faint, crooked edge of sadness to it.

Rukia nodded, and waited.

“And we hope to help you along the path you’ve chosen to walk.” He gave her a slightly rueful look. “I admit it was Kyouraku’s idea at first. I’m ashamed to say I didn’t see it in you until just recently.”

Rukia frowned, puzzled. Didn’t see what? “Taichou, what are you talking about?”

He folded his hands over his knee and leaned back. “Tell me, Kuchiki,” he said, in a tone that echoed of late-night sake-speculation to her ear, “if you were guaranteed all your wishes would be granted, what would you wish, for Soul Society?”

“Um.” Rukia stared at him. “First tell me that there isn’t any way to grant all of anyone’s wishes?” A person never knew, these days.

Her captain’s smile was brilliant. “Good thought. There isn’t.”

“All right,” she said, slowly. “Then… I suppose I would wish… for a little more common sense.” Ukitake-taichou made inquiring sounds and she tried to pull her scattered thoughts together. “Everyone seems so distracted by pointless status games, or political manipulation…” she shot a doubtful look at him, and he smiled and bowed his head. “Or things, like the Research Institute, that are just… evil.” She shivered. “I’d wish for everyone to remember what our duty really is. And pay attention to it again, and stop wasting their time like that.”

“You set a very fine example of that to us all, Kuchiki,” he told her, softly, and Rukia couldn’t stop a faint blush. “All we want,” he continued, “is for your example to be seen as it deserves. Seen by all.”

“Do you think I should train toward becoming a Captain?” Though Rukia couldn’t imagine that such traditional patronage would require all this sneaking around, and what could it possibly have to do with her betrothal?

“More than that.” His smile was sad again. “The Fourty-Six are dead, Kuchiki. Where do you think their replacements will be drawn from?”

Rukia sat frozen for a long moment before she surged to her feet. “No!” She was breathing fast. “Locked away in the innermost Court, making decisions without knowing, never free again… No. I could never live like that.” It would be just like being back in that tower with the weight of stone holding down her spirit.

Ukitake-taichou’s voice was gentle and implacable. “Who but one of the Fourty-Six could change that? One of the Fourty-Six with the backing of all the noble houses from first to last, who knows the needs of the commoners as well? One with the personal loyalty of many of the Court Gardians?”

Rukia sank to the floor again, shaking her head silently, eyes wide.

“Besides,” he added, “they would hardly try to isolate you from your husband, and he can’t be taken from his duties. That’s the best part.”

He was just holding up a hand, probably against the start of a snarl that was curling Rukia’s lips, when he paused with his mouth open, staring at the door. Rukia turned to see a slightly dishevelled Renji standing there with a straw hat impaled on his sword.

“What’s wrong?” Renji asked, sharply, looking back and forth between them. “You shouted.”

“Sorry, Ukitake,” Kyouraku-san put in over his shoulder. “But love conquers all. Including senior captains when their sneaky juniors get the drop on them.”

Renji glowered at him, sword point lifting.

“They want me to be one of the Fourty-Six,” Rukia told him, too stunned to be anything other than blunt.

Renji opened and closed his mouth a few times. He shook the hat off his sword, sheathed it and planted his fists on his hips. “Ok. First, better you than a lot of other people I can think of. Second,” he glared at the other two captains, “no one is locking you up where I can’t get to you.” After another few moments of glaring, though, a wicked smile crept over his face. “Third, if you two want to be the ones to tell Kuchiki-taichou that you want to wreck his plans for his sister and make her unhappy again… it’s been a pleasure to have known you.”

“No, no, no,” Kyouraku-san protested, dusting off his hat. “We’d never want Rukia-chan to be unhappy! Lovely girls being unhappy is a terrible thing.”

The other three all rolled their eyes.

“Rukia,” Ukitake-taichou said, seriously, “surely you see why we said nothing to you about this. Nothing is sure. Aside, perhaps,” he smiled, “from your wedding. We’re only holding the door open, in case you choose to go through it.”

Rukia rose and bowed to both of them silently. She needed to get out of here and think about this. “I will consider what you have said,” she replied, quiet and formal.

Kyouraku-san stood aside from the door with a serene smile of his own, for Rukia to pass. Renji waited until they were on the shore before he cocked his head at her, questioning. She glanced back across the still water of the lake and closed her hand around his, twining their fingers together determinedly.

“Whatever anyone else is making of the circumstances around it,” Rukia said, tightly, “our marriage is exactly that. Ours.”

She stalked away down the shore, hauling a grinning Renji with her since she wasn’t about to let go of him.

Not ever.

End

For the Third Time

Very memorable ceremonies. Drama with Romance, I-3

Character(s): Abarai Renji, Kuchiki Byakuya, Kuchiki Rukia, Shihouin Yoruichi

Pairing(s): Rukia/Renji

The whole thing was… memorable. But some moments stood out more than others.

Renji would, of course, treasure to his grave the momentarily flummoxed look on Kuchiki’s face when Shiba Kuukaku showed up for the betrothal in her version of dress clothes. Renji hadn’t known it was possible to roll up the sleeves of a formal kimono, and that was just for starters. But to be honest most of the highlights clustered around the wedding itself.

Renji tugged loose his hair tie, grinning as he considered the past twenty-four hours.

Renji had thought they might be in the clear. The bonfires hadn’t burned any buildings down, Rukia’s litter hadn’t tipped over, bringing her here, neither of them had tripped on their own clothing and broken their necks. So far, everything had gone remarkably smoothly.

Clearly even thinking that was tempting fate.

Rukia was taking her first sip in the series of pledges to seal their declarations when Yachiru’s voice piped up. Yachiru’s very carrying voice.

“So getting drunk together makes them married? Ken-chan, how many men is Rangiku married to?”

Renji stopped breathing. If he moved a muscle, he was sure he’d lose it and start laughing, and then Rangiku would try to kill him, and he couldn’t run very fast in all these layers. A wave of snorts and muffled whoops swept the hall, along with a thump Renji thought was probably Hisagi’s forehead meeting his palm.

Rukia didn’t choke, didn’t spit sake all over him, didn’t even bat an eyelash. She finished the three measured sips and set the cup back down with a perfectly serene smile. Renji had never been more impressed.

And, as he took the next cup, he was very, very careful not to look at the wicked light in her eyes. Rangiku had much too clear a shot at his back if he snickered very loudly.

Rukia set the last sake cup down on its stack with a tiny clink that sounded through the whole hall, and Renji finally exhaled. It was done. It was real. They really were…

Rukia smiled at him and he lost his train of thought.

“You guys done being goopy at each other?”

They both started at Shiba-san’s voice, and Renji looked over Rukia’s shoulder in time to see Kuchiki-taichou giving his symbolic co-parent a quelling look. It didn’t seem to be working. Shiba-san just raised an eyebrow at them, waiting.

“Yes?” Renji hazarded.

Her grin would have suited a shark. “Well, then.” She pulled an innocent looking tube out of her belt and yanked the string hanging from it.

“Party time!”

Balls of colored sparks exploded over everyone’s heads, raining down on the witnesses, a snickering Rangiku, an amused Captain-General, and a totally unmoved Kuchiki.

Rukia laughed and held up her hands to catch them.

“Yo.”

Renji nearly jumped out of his skin, and whipped around to see a slim, dark, wickedly grinning woman lounging behind him, who hadn’t been there two seconds ago. “Shihouin-san!” Rukia turned, too, wide-eyed.

She waved a dismissive hand. “Yoruichi is fine. Figured I’d stop by and drop off congratulations and gifts from me and Uruhara and Ichigo, and all.” She tucked a handful of bright envelopes in the front of Renji’s kimono while he was still blinking.

“How did you…”

She snorted. “Even if any of you puppies could catch me, everyone but a skeleton guard is around here somewhere, celebrating. Or, at least, getting drunk.” She frowned out at the crowd spilling out of the courtyard, off tables and occasionally off the roofs. “Except Soi. I should go goose her or something; girl has to loosen up some time.”

Rukia raised sparkling eyes from the space where Shihouin had vanished, and Renji could tell she was imagining the intense and straight-laced Soi Fong getting pinched. They grinned at each other, listening for the squawk.

Some time after midnight Renji wondered if it was a bad sign that most of the Eleventh seemed to be calling Shiba-san “Aneki”.

Kyouraku seemed very amused by it all, but that could have just been that Ise had drunk enough to fall asleep on his shoulder.

It was late, or maybe early, when they finally retreated inside, and Renji made a fuzzy mental note to get nice thank-you gifts for the men and women of Kuchiki House, and the handful of his own division, who had cleared out the ceremonial trappings from the bottom floor. Navigation was hard enough at the moment, he didn’t need to be tripping over strange furniture.

“Hang on a minute, Renji.”

He wobbled as Rukia slipped out from under his arm. He might have protested, but it was Kuchiki, standing in the shadows by the door, she was heading for, and he wasn’t nearly drunk enough to try to come between them. He doubted it was possible to be that drunk.

He pretended to watch the nearest heap of snoring shinigami.

“I’ll see you in three days, Nii-sama.”

“Of course.”

They were silent for long enough that Renji snuck a glance out of the corner of his eye. They were just standing there, looking at each other.

At least until Rukia made a small, inarticulate sound and stepped forward to wrap her brother in a swift hug.

His hands came up to rest on her shoulders, and only someone as close as Renji was could have seen him press her closer for a moment, before setting her back again.

“Thank you, Nii-sama,” she whispered, and the shadow of a smile answered her.

She was blinking a little extra brightness away, as she came back to his side. Renji eyed Kuchiki and found himself being eyed back. Cool and uncaring as always—at least in dim lighting.

It wasn’t easy to bow at a respectful angle while keeping one’s arm around another person, but Renji thought it was worth the trouble, to see the flash of pleasure in Kuchiki’s eyes before he sniffed and turned away. And Rukia’s silent laugh, against his side.

But however much of a pain parts of it had been, it all came down to this. To he and Rukia, having escaped from the layers of their formal robes and elaborate hair ornaments, down to a yukata apiece, in a dim bedroom that belonged to them.

Rukia curled up on the futon, by the window, leaning her chin on folded arms to look out. Sitting like that, without their uniforms, she didn’t look much older than she had when they’d met, and Renji had to smile.

“There’s a better view from over here,” he offered, sliding down against the wall at the head of the bed and balling up a pillow behind him. Rukia, looking curious, scooted over next to him, punching the other pillow into place.

“Oh,” she murmured.

The two windows almost became one from this angle, and though them they could see a high-peaked roof, alone against the sky. A faintly colored moon hung over it, a slice away from full, turning the lines of the roof sharp and black. Rukia sighed, happily.

It all came down to this. To Rukia leaning easily in the curve of his arm. To showing her a moment of the beauty she loved, instead of just thinking how much she would like to see it. To sitting on a bed that belonged to both of them, in rumpled yukata, hair ruffled by the night breeze.

Rukia smiled at him from the corner of her eye, and tangled her fingers with his, and rested her head on his shoulder.

When Renji could breathe again he lifted her fingers, hesitantly, to his lips.

The moon would wait for them.

End

Break Down the Door

Rukia talks to her brother about career plans. Drama, I-3

Character(s): Abarai Renji, Kuchiki Byakuya, Kuchiki Rukia

Pairing(s): Rukia/Renji

Most of the traditions and symbolism surrounding her betrothal and marriage, Rukia had merely tolerated. She and Renji had both found the tokens exchanged at the betrothal, the carved tortoise in particular, a bit ridiculous, and figuring out how to hold the hair ornaments and veil in Rukia’s short hair had been a trial.

This one, though, she rather liked.

Renji had grumbled over having to add yet another outfit to her accumulated pile, to say nothing of coming along for an overnight visit to her erstwhile home, but when he’d handed over this kimono she’d had to smile. The pattern of white flowers was smaller, now, only winding up the hem and over her shoulders, but the blue of it, and the red obi, exactly matched her best kimono from when they had last been together.

She smoothed it over her knees as she sat next to her brother, looking out at the stream.

“So, they wish to embroil you again,” he mused, eyes cool and distant.

“Is it even possible for someone as young as I am to be chosen for the Forty-Six?” she wanted to know. It still seemed… fantastic to her.

Her brother waved a dismissive hand. “There are ways. It isn’t all that unusual for judges to come from among the Court Guardians.”

Rukia perked up. Now there was a thought that hadn’t occurred to her. A much more plausible one, in her opinion, than trying to hang a sign that said Sage around her neck. “And only two of the six judges have been chosen,” she agreed. “That makes more sense.”

Nii-sama looked sidelong at her. “A vice-captain would have the rank to qualify, even without great seniority,” he observed. “Particularly with a sufficiently influential sponsor.”

Rukia laughed softly up at him. “Then I won’t need any sponsor but you, will I?” She held back another laugh as he settled, a hint of smugness at the corners of his mouth.

It was true, though. Kuchiki was her House, just as Rukongai was her past. And neither a survivor of Inuzuri nor a daughter of Kuchiki needed anyone holding open doors for her. She’d open her own damn door.

Open it wide.

She had another question, the next morning at breakfast.

“Nii-sama? Was Urahara a good captain?”

Her brother’s tea paused for a moment on its way to his mouth. A contemplative silence lay over the table while he sipped slowly. “No,” he said, at last. “He was brilliant and powerful. His conscience grew, perhaps, above the average. But he did not suit the position of Captain.”

“Hm.” Rukia took a thoughtful bite of rice. “Since Yoruichi-san already seems to have him in hand, perhaps we should leave him in her preserve, then.” She nibbled her lip for a moment before asking, more quietly, “Did you approve of what he grew to be, Nii-sama?”

“That is not something a Captain should comment on.” After a stern look, though, her brother nodded once, silently.

Rukia smiled, relieved. “And I know you liked Yoruichi-san. Good. Then there won’t be any problems when I go to overturn the judgments that exiled them.”

There was yet another pause in the conversation while Renji choked, and she pounded his back helpfully. When he recovered, it was her brother he directed a look at. “Do those two have the slightest idea just what they’re bargaining for, here?” he rasped, pointing at Rukia.

A faint gleam of satisfaction lit the back of Nii-sama’s eyes. “It isn’t likely.”

“Didn’t think so.” Renji shook his head, grinning at her. “You’ve gotten bigger goals since we started, that’s for sure.”

“Have I?” Rukia ran a finger around the rim of her cup. “We have enough to eat, here, all right. But the safe place to sleep… that’s still a problem. Isn’t it?”

Renji’s eyes darkened, and his voice dropped to a growl. “Yes.”

“And that’s what the noble houses are supposed to make sure of, really.” She looked at her brother. “Isn’t it?”

“We serve,” he said, voice low. “We fight.” After a long moment, his chin lowered and he looked at his folded hands. “You may be right.”

“Then I will go forward,” she said, steadily.

Renji’s face lit with a dangerous smile. “Not alone, you won’t,” he told her, foot nudging hers. “Somebody’s got to protect you, after all.” She made a horrible face at him, and then blushed as her brother cleared his throat. She hurriedly smoothed her expression and gave him an apologetic look from under her lashes.

“Our library has the texts you will need to study,” he noted, straight and composed as ever except for a lifted brow at their antics. “Rest assured that I will not sponsor your advancement until your knowledge is adequate.”

That was a Nii-sama sentence if ever she’d heard one, and Rukia smiled wryly. “You never have, Nii-sama,” she agreed, softly.

“You know,” Renji mused, as they made a leisurely stroll of their walk home, “it’s a shame you won’t be going on with your training as an officer. I mean, you’ll be a great judge. But I bet you could have reached ban kai. Your potential was always higher than mine.” A corner of his mouth curved up as he glanced down at her. “Even if you are a shrimp.”

Rukia laughed, low in her throat, not rising to the bait. Well, not the way he expected, at least. “What makes you think I’ll stop training towards it?” she asked, lightly, and tossed a grin over her shoulder at Renji, who had frozen in mid-step. “I have two captains to work with, don’t I? And two more I can tap if I need to. So come on, Renji.” She held out a hand.

She’d been wrong to think a shinigami’s life would be that different, she decided, watching the flash of teeth as he laughed and caught her hand. They were planning to steal something a lot bigger than water jars, this time, but the way they smiled and dared each other with their eyes was the same. And she had to learn to fight fast and hard, because the adults were bigger, still.

This time, though, she thought, smoothing the blue fabric of her sleeve, this time she was going to keep her family alive.

End

Irrigation

Soi is worn out from work and Yoruichi comes to visit. Drama with Fluffiness, I-3

Character(s): Shihouin Yoruichi, Soi Fon

Soi sank to the floor by her writing desk with more of a thump than she would
have permitted herself anywhere but her own rooms. Her eyes slid wearily
over the report that she had left half-written, there; she should finish
it tonight. Well, perhaps another paragraph, at least. She rubbed the back
of her hand over eyes that insisted on drooping.

Perhaps she’d feel better after she got out of uniform.

She managed to knot the ties of her yukata decently and got about half way
through undoing one of her braids before she ran out of energy again.

"Look who’s wilted! Will it help if we put your feet in water?"

Soi jumped half out of her skin, but didn’t make it more than a few inches
around before her visitor wrapped an arm around her shoulders from behind,
laughing in her ear. Soi slumped. "Yoruichi-sama," she murmured.
Strike one more set of intruder tell-tales that obviously didn’t work well enough.

"Your hair will snarl if you leave it like that," Yoruichi-sama
told her, plucking the half-unraveled braid out of Soi’s fingers. Soi
blushed a little, but sat meekly while Yoruichi-sama undid her hair with
swift, warm hands. "What’s
going on that’s got you so worn out?"

"What isn’t?" Soi sighed, brushing her fingers over the pages of
her report. "It
almost seems like…" she bit her lip.

Yoruichi-sama reached past her for her comb. "Hm?"

"Like the Captain-General is losing control," Soi finished, softly.
She didn’t like the thought; it meant that she must have failed in her duty.
But… "Some of the Captains are getting very involved in politics,"
she admitted. "And nothing has stopped them. Not warnings, not lectures,
not keeping them busy with assignments. I haven’t been ordered to act against
them directly, but…" She twisted her fingers together in her lap.

"If you’re ordered to do that, it will mean war within Soul Society,
worse than last time." The flat tone in Yoruichi-sama’s voice contradicted
the gentle stroke of the comb through Soi’s hair. "And the Captain-General
has no right to give you such an order without the decision of the Forty-Six.
The Onmitsukidou are not under him."

"Does it count if it’s the decision of the Sixteen?" Soi asked, bitterly.
And then bit her lip again; that wasn’t becoming to her position…

Yoruichi-sama chuckled, and patted her shoulder. "Exactly. You’re learning,
girl."

Soi ignored the tug of the comb to turn and give her superior a scolding
look. "Yoruichi-sama…"
But Yoruichi-sama only grinned, teeth gleaming in the dusk, and Soi sighed. "And
then there’s Kuchiki,"
she added, one exasperation reminding her of another.

"Which one?" Yoruichi-sama pushed her back around and resumed combing,
separating Soi’s hair to make a single braid.

"Both of them!" Soi glared at the wall, aggravated. "But
Rukia mostly. I just don’t know what she’s doing."

"Getting pregnant?" Yoruichi-sama suggested. Soi could hear the smirk.
"Has to happen sooner or later, with those two."

Soi sniffed. "Everything but that, it seems."
She ticked off on her fingers. "She’s been confirmed as the vice-captain
of Thirteenth Division, and is still training hard, though at least half
of it is in private. She goes for tea, or sake more likely, with Shiba Kuukaku
every few weeks, and that’s where she met the Commander of the Kidoushuu;
they seem to be getting along famously. She’s studying our law, of all things,
with her brother, though I can’t get anyone close enough to tell how far
she’s gotten in it. And she still makes time to go out with the other vice-captains,
and sometimes captains too, and for some reason she’s trying to coax
Nemu to join in."
Soi threw up her hands. "It’s like she decided she wants to do over
her time in the Academy!"

"The advanced course, maybe," Yoruichi-sama murmured, plaiting Soi’s
hair snugly. "What’s Byakuya doing to annoy you?"

Soi rubbed her eyes again. Yoruichi-sama’s hands were soothing, and her eyes
were starting to get heavy. "He’s… just waiting. He must know,
by now, that he’s the most likely choice for Captain-General, when Yamamoto-san
retires. That’s the part that really makes me wonder what his sister is
doing; and what he’s thinking." She tried to stifle a yawn.

"There, now." Yoruichi-sama rested a hand on Soi’s shoulder. "I
said you were learning, didn’t I?" The hand guided her firmly down,
and Soi was sufficiently tired not to wonder too much about the odd lap-like
shape her pillow seemed to have transformed into. Yoruichi-sama’s hand,
stroking her hair, lulled her into sleep even as she mumbled a protest
about finishing her report…

Soi woke up when the sun from her open window started to shine in her eyes.
Leaning up on her elbow she found that she’d been tucked up on her futon.
And that Yoruichi-sama was gone again. And, as the breeze fluttered pages
on her desk, that her report was completed.

At the end, in her own handwriting, was a suggestion that Hitsugaya Toushirou
be considered for the position of Captain-General.

The new note, tucked under her inkstone, was in Yoruichi-sama’s hand.

"That should confuse them all enough to slow them down. Hurry and
catch up!"

Soi pressed the note to her cheek and smiled.

End

Ink Burns

Fanfiction by Branch

Lull: All In One

Promise

Patch

Tea

Marks of Time

Only A Story

Stare at the Sun

Chocolate and Flowers

Conspiracy

Easier

Resolve

Representatives

For the Third Time

Break Down the Door

Irrigation