Like a photograph,
Love develops in darkness.
Soul Society, Seireitei, Squad Six Barracks, Captain's Office
5:32 p.m.
5:32 p.m.
"Give me your loyalty."
As if Mari ever had a choice in the matter.
For the last two months, Mari had served as Byakuya Kuchiki's Third Seat. But Mari hadn't been Mari then; rather, she identified as Sumiko Kurosawa. And now that Mari was Mari again, she knew Byakuya while Byakuya did not know her. She had gone from being a few decades younger than him to a few decades older. She wasn't sure how to react around him anymore, however easy it had been a couple of weeks prior. Mari would be resuming her old position - Sumiko's old position - as Third Seat of Squad Six. So nothing would change.
But at the same time, nothing would be the same.
Mari swallowed deeply as she entered Byakuya's office, feeling somewhat resolute. Immediately, before she had time to see where he was, his eyes had met hers from where he sat at his desk. Mari froze like a startled rabbit halfway through the door. Byakuya's eyes were cold and gray and expressionless, but Mari felt as though his gaze was burning her skin away.
"Come in." His voice was calm, cool, flat, devoid of emotion. Like his eyes. Mari was slightly disturbed by her inability to read him. Not even Kisuke had been so hard to unravel.
She didn't want to think about Kisuke just then.
Mari quickly stepped through the door and bowed deeply before him. "Good evening, Captain! I'm-"
"I know who you are, Mari."
She looked up in surprise, her mouth making a surprised O shape as though she were a fish sucking in air. Completely taken aback, she couldn't think of a response. "I-"
"You've already served this post for the past two months," Byakuya went on, dismissively turning back to his paperwork while Mari continued to stay bent over double like a fool. "You shouldn't require any briefing. You will continue to do the same duties that Sumiko Kurosawa did. That is all."
Mari straightened slowly, somewhat put off. Though Byakuya's gaze had fried her brain earlier, she was having even more difficulty in thinking coherent thoughts now that it was gone. "Oh, um... Y-Y-Yes sir. I'll just, um, I'll just - go." Mari's face flushed, and she quickly bowed again before turning and heading for the door.
"I can't help but wonder why you came back here."
Byakuya's sudden statement stopped Mari an inch from the door. She glanced back at him in surprise, but he was still looking down at his desk. "S-Sir?"
The scratching of pen on parchment was the only sound that could be heard for the next minute or so. Mari shuffled nervously, unsure of whether to stay and make sense of her captain's musings or to leave him and the awkward stuffiness behind.
Just as she started to turn around, Byakuya spoke again. "Before you were Sumiko Kurosawa, you served in Squad Eleven, as you had since you graduated from the Soul Reaper Academy. Then you went into Squad Four as your alias for nearly a century, and then at last you come here to Squad Six for a mere two months." Still, Byakuya did not look up, but he had stopped writing. "What is your reason for coming back to this squad, where you spent easily the least amount of time?"
Mari swallowed, suddenly feeling like a cornered mouse. "I... dunno, sir." She felt like an idiot, but she didn't know what else to say.
"Any loyalty you felt for those two squads should be gone." Mari couldn't tell if this was a statement or an order.
"Sir, I'm afraid I don't understand..."
"Mari." Byakuya's eyes flickered up to meet hers, and Mari felt a wave of flame wash over her stomach. "Give me your loyalty."
Mari blinked only once before giving her answer. "It's yours," she said. She didn't realize how truthfully she meant it until the words had left her mouth.
A month went by, like the spinning of a sakura blossom as it drifted to the ground. Mari fell back into her usual schedule as easily as she might slip into a pair of familiar shoes. Renji rarely spoke to her outside of their duties, and even then, it was only stiff small talk. Mari became painfully aware that Renji had fallen in love with Sumiko Kurosawa, not Mari. She wasn't even sure what the feelings she had for Renji were, so she locked them in a little box and tucked it away. Being friends with him seemed good enough.
Her relationship with the captain was different as well. Byakuya managed to rile her on a daily basis, making her feel as inconsequential as a fly on the wall without even trying. It wasn't anything he said or anything he did; it probably wasn't even his fault. While he treated Mari virtually the same way he had treated Sumiko, Mari felt more susceptible to him now than she had before, like her former identity had been sort of a shield that protected her from that cold, burning gaze, and now that she was without it, she was as weak and naked as a newborn babe.
It was the gap. Byakuya rarely need to show anything remotely close to his true power. Mari had caught glimpses of it once or twice, a flare of it here and there like a sudden burst of water escaping a dam. But even those little sparks were enough to make the truth clear: Mari was nothing.
She found herself unconsciously training harder, more frequently. Renji had noticed this and began joining her on his time off. Mari enjoyed herself during these times more than she had in decades. Though it was their bodies that they were training, it seemed like it was Renji's smile that was growing stronger, and soon his laughter filled up more space than awkward silence. Mari thought less and less of Kisuke Urahara, and whenever she did, the pain that she felt lance through her chest seemed to grow fainter and fainter. Mari felt as though the universe was on its intended course once again.
But she wasn't quite sure about Byakuya Kuchiki.
Mari felt sure of herself when she was fighting alongside Renji or the rest of her squad; she was either their equal or their better in every case. But when she was near Byakuya, that feeling of being inferior simmer cold in the pit of her stomach, burned black by the silent intensity of his dark eyes. The power Mari felt humming beneath her skin was invigorating on so many levels. But in his presence, it wasn't enough, not nearly enough. Not until that day.
"Give me your strength," Byakuya had told her, brandishing his Zanpakuto before the Menos Grande as it loomed over the two of them like something out of hell. Mari surveyed the three that flanked close behind the first, and she felt all her uneasiness disappear beneath the cocky smirk that twisted her lips.
As if he really needed to say it.
Her relationship with the captain was different as well. Byakuya managed to rile her on a daily basis, making her feel as inconsequential as a fly on the wall without even trying. It wasn't anything he said or anything he did; it probably wasn't even his fault. While he treated Mari virtually the same way he had treated Sumiko, Mari felt more susceptible to him now than she had before, like her former identity had been sort of a shield that protected her from that cold, burning gaze, and now that she was without it, she was as weak and naked as a newborn babe.
It was the gap. Byakuya rarely need to show anything remotely close to his true power. Mari had caught glimpses of it once or twice, a flare of it here and there like a sudden burst of water escaping a dam. But even those little sparks were enough to make the truth clear: Mari was nothing.
She found herself unconsciously training harder, more frequently. Renji had noticed this and began joining her on his time off. Mari enjoyed herself during these times more than she had in decades. Though it was their bodies that they were training, it seemed like it was Renji's smile that was growing stronger, and soon his laughter filled up more space than awkward silence. Mari thought less and less of Kisuke Urahara, and whenever she did, the pain that she felt lance through her chest seemed to grow fainter and fainter. Mari felt as though the universe was on its intended course once again.
But she wasn't quite sure about Byakuya Kuchiki.
Mari felt sure of herself when she was fighting alongside Renji or the rest of her squad; she was either their equal or their better in every case. But when she was near Byakuya, that feeling of being inferior simmer cold in the pit of her stomach, burned black by the silent intensity of his dark eyes. The power Mari felt humming beneath her skin was invigorating on so many levels. But in his presence, it wasn't enough, not nearly enough. Not until that day.
"Give me your strength," Byakuya had told her, brandishing his Zanpakuto before the Menos Grande as it loomed over the two of them like something out of hell. Mari surveyed the three that flanked close behind the first, and she felt all her uneasiness disappear beneath the cocky smirk that twisted her lips.
As if he really needed to say it.
Soul Society, Seireitei, Squad Six Barracks
9:42 p.m.
9:42 p.m.
It was a fortnight after that, and Mari was so furious that the rest of her squad - Renji included - cowered away from her and the dark cloud thundering over her head as she stalked moodily down the hall.
She had been stupid. No, she had been worse than stupid. She had been an irresponsible fool. Mari had been too confident in her own abilities, too confident that the Hollows would go after her and her power. But she had been wrong. Instead, the damned beasts had targeted the weaker members of her team, and this had resulted in two of Mari's men receiving grievous injuries. She had taken them both to Squad Four, been reassured that they would survive, and then she had stormed away, too ashamed to look these men in the eyes in the wake of her stupidity. She had stubbornly refused treatment for the bloody slice down her right arm.
"Forget it!" snarled Mari, and the two Squad Four members had scattered like startled mice.
Mari had never felt so worthless. She didn't have the guts to report her failure to the captain, her shame was so great. She didn't even have dignity enough to tell Renji to pass the report on, for hadn't they been training so long to get stronger, to get better? Certainly not to make brainless decisions and stupid mistakes. She retreated to her room instead and sat down in the middle of the floor, berating herself silently. The darkness and the silence made her feel better, but only to a certain degree. She could still hear them, the shrieks of her subordinates as their flesh was torn by hellish claws, their surprise at not being backed up by their commanding officer. It sounded a lot like chagrin in Mari's ears.
After a while, her door opened without a knock. Expecting either Renji or Rikichi, Mari raised her head to bark at the intruder, but she was left dumbstruck as Byakuya entered the room calmly and shut the door quietly behind him. He strode across the room without making a single sound and sat down on the floor across from Mari, so close to her that she could see the absence of emotion, the solemnity of his face in the half-light.
"Give me your hand," Byakuya ordered, and Mari found herself obeying without a moment of hesitation.
A million tiny nerves flared and fluctuated beneath her skin as she was touched for the very first time by Byakuya Kuchiki. He gently wiped the blood from her wound with a damp cloth, and then he took the scarf from his neck and wound it around Mari's arm, binding it tight. Mari tried to speak up
Why are you wasting that on me?
but she couldn't make her mouth work. Her stomach was flipping, her head was spinning, her skin was burning. She didn't move a single muscle until Byakuya let go of her hand.
Silently, Byakuya stood, and Mari watched him dazedly as he made his way to the door. He stopped just before he got there, his back to her. "Next time, face your mistakes. No one in my squad is allowed to run away from herself, Mari. You least of all."
As he stepped outside and closed the door behind him, leaving her in darkness and silence, Mari wasn't sure if she should be feeling ashamed anymore. She was too busy feeling something entirely different and entirely new.
She had been stupid. No, she had been worse than stupid. She had been an irresponsible fool. Mari had been too confident in her own abilities, too confident that the Hollows would go after her and her power. But she had been wrong. Instead, the damned beasts had targeted the weaker members of her team, and this had resulted in two of Mari's men receiving grievous injuries. She had taken them both to Squad Four, been reassured that they would survive, and then she had stormed away, too ashamed to look these men in the eyes in the wake of her stupidity. She had stubbornly refused treatment for the bloody slice down her right arm.
"Forget it!" snarled Mari, and the two Squad Four members had scattered like startled mice.
Mari had never felt so worthless. She didn't have the guts to report her failure to the captain, her shame was so great. She didn't even have dignity enough to tell Renji to pass the report on, for hadn't they been training so long to get stronger, to get better? Certainly not to make brainless decisions and stupid mistakes. She retreated to her room instead and sat down in the middle of the floor, berating herself silently. The darkness and the silence made her feel better, but only to a certain degree. She could still hear them, the shrieks of her subordinates as their flesh was torn by hellish claws, their surprise at not being backed up by their commanding officer. It sounded a lot like chagrin in Mari's ears.
After a while, her door opened without a knock. Expecting either Renji or Rikichi, Mari raised her head to bark at the intruder, but she was left dumbstruck as Byakuya entered the room calmly and shut the door quietly behind him. He strode across the room without making a single sound and sat down on the floor across from Mari, so close to her that she could see the absence of emotion, the solemnity of his face in the half-light.
"Give me your hand," Byakuya ordered, and Mari found herself obeying without a moment of hesitation.
A million tiny nerves flared and fluctuated beneath her skin as she was touched for the very first time by Byakuya Kuchiki. He gently wiped the blood from her wound with a damp cloth, and then he took the scarf from his neck and wound it around Mari's arm, binding it tight. Mari tried to speak up
Why are you wasting that on me?
but she couldn't make her mouth work. Her stomach was flipping, her head was spinning, her skin was burning. She didn't move a single muscle until Byakuya let go of her hand.
Silently, Byakuya stood, and Mari watched him dazedly as he made his way to the door. He stopped just before he got there, his back to her. "Next time, face your mistakes. No one in my squad is allowed to run away from herself, Mari. You least of all."
As he stepped outside and closed the door behind him, leaving her in darkness and silence, Mari wasn't sure if she should be feeling ashamed anymore. She was too busy feeling something entirely different and entirely new.
Soul Society, Seireitei, Squad Six Barracks
10:23 p.m.
10:23 p.m.
She had washed it meticulously. She had dried it out in the open air, hanging it delicately by the corners. She had folded it carefully, perfectly, and put it in a box so it wouldn't get damaged. She placed the box next to her futon so she wouldn't lose it.
It took Mari two weeks to pluck up the courage to give it back to him.
She didn't know why she was hesitating. It wasn't that she feared confrontation, or even the ever-present cloud of awkward silence that cloaked the room whenever Mari and Byakuya were near one another. They were getting along better than they once did, and they even shared looks that, to Mari, seemed heavily laced with double meaning. One night, Mari had decided, while lying on her bed half-asleep and staring up at the ceiling, that she was probably in love. This should have disturbed her more than it actually did. She was in love with Byakuya Kuchiki. What now?
Now Mari had Byakuya's scarf, his windflower silk scarf, one of the man's most prized possessions. It was the sign of his house, his rank, his nobility; he had given it to Mari to bind her wound, her stupid mistake, and help it mend and heal over. And he hadn't asked for anything in return.
Perhaps it had been Byakuya's touch that had opened her eyes, made her realize her feelings. She wanted to return the favor - touch him gently, sweetly, possessively. Or perhaps that was just how she wanted to be touched.
It had only taken a few drinks in her system to break her down completely like the weak, hollowed-out structure that her heart had become. But instead of Byakuya, it was Renji that she had collapsed onto as a sobbing wreck of a girl.
"I love him! Oh God, Renji, I love him!"
"Who?" Renji asked, his voice unusually soft, his hand unusually gentle against the back of her head as she lay wailing against his shoulder. When he had invited her to his quarters for a drink that evening, he hadn't expected that she would become so emotional. The Mari he knew never broke down like this - not in front of others.
"Byakuya! I love Byakuya! Why, Renji? He's a heartless bastard, why do I like him?!"
She didn't notice the way Renji's spine stiffened, and she couldn't see how his eyes darkened slightly. "I don't know," he said after a moment, his voice somewhat taut. "You don't need a reason to fall in love with someone."
"But it's Byakuya! He doesn't feel anything for me!"
"You don't know that," Renji said softly. He started to stroke her hair, gentle and slow, and Mari felt herself sighing into his embrace. "The captain may be a heartless bastard, but he's good at hiding his emotions. It's damn near impossible to tell what he's thinking. You'd have to ask him to know for sure."
Mari pulled away and looked at him in surprise. Her eyes were side and glazed with alcohol, her face flushed and slick with tears, her hair sticking to her sweaty forehead. "But I can't ask him something like that! He's my captain, and-"
"I'm your lieutenant, so if you can come to me with something like this, then you can-"
"But you're warm, Renji! I can talk to you! You're not like Byakuya! You can't tell what he's thinking, and-"
"If you'd stop interrupting me, I could tell you what to do, dammit!" Renji snapped irritably.
"You stop interrupting me!" Mari snapped back, the tears in her eyes making her anger seem half-hearted.
Renji figured it was rather absurd to argue with the girl that was crying in his lap, so he exhaled gustily and tried again. "Look, it's not like he'll hit you if you tell him how you feel. If he did, I'd kick his ass. But if you don't say anything, you won't know."
Mari had buried her face in Renji's shoulder again, and she remained their, quiet, for the next few moments. "Should I go now?" she asked finally, her voice muffled by Renji's flesh.
Renji hesitated. He figured she was asking because of the late hour, but it was more her state of drunkenness that had him worried. Then again, if she were near Byakuya while sober, she would probably clam up and not say a single meaningful thing. Perhaps being tipsy would make her a little more daring...?
"The sooner, the better," he told her. "If you hesitate, you'll lose him." Because I hesitated, and now I've lost you...
Mari remained silent, drinking in his familiar scent, like fire and salt and sweat and sugar and skin. He smelled a lot like Kohaku had over a century before. "Thank you, Renji." Her voice was tight and weak, holding back another onslaught of tears. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
Neither do I. But Renji didn't say it out loud. He instead chose to stay there and hold her in his arms, savoring the moment where he was the most important person in her life for just a few seconds longer.
It took Mari two weeks to pluck up the courage to give it back to him.
She didn't know why she was hesitating. It wasn't that she feared confrontation, or even the ever-present cloud of awkward silence that cloaked the room whenever Mari and Byakuya were near one another. They were getting along better than they once did, and they even shared looks that, to Mari, seemed heavily laced with double meaning. One night, Mari had decided, while lying on her bed half-asleep and staring up at the ceiling, that she was probably in love. This should have disturbed her more than it actually did. She was in love with Byakuya Kuchiki. What now?
Now Mari had Byakuya's scarf, his windflower silk scarf, one of the man's most prized possessions. It was the sign of his house, his rank, his nobility; he had given it to Mari to bind her wound, her stupid mistake, and help it mend and heal over. And he hadn't asked for anything in return.
Perhaps it had been Byakuya's touch that had opened her eyes, made her realize her feelings. She wanted to return the favor - touch him gently, sweetly, possessively. Or perhaps that was just how she wanted to be touched.
It had only taken a few drinks in her system to break her down completely like the weak, hollowed-out structure that her heart had become. But instead of Byakuya, it was Renji that she had collapsed onto as a sobbing wreck of a girl.
"I love him! Oh God, Renji, I love him!"
"Who?" Renji asked, his voice unusually soft, his hand unusually gentle against the back of her head as she lay wailing against his shoulder. When he had invited her to his quarters for a drink that evening, he hadn't expected that she would become so emotional. The Mari he knew never broke down like this - not in front of others.
"Byakuya! I love Byakuya! Why, Renji? He's a heartless bastard, why do I like him?!"
She didn't notice the way Renji's spine stiffened, and she couldn't see how his eyes darkened slightly. "I don't know," he said after a moment, his voice somewhat taut. "You don't need a reason to fall in love with someone."
"But it's Byakuya! He doesn't feel anything for me!"
"You don't know that," Renji said softly. He started to stroke her hair, gentle and slow, and Mari felt herself sighing into his embrace. "The captain may be a heartless bastard, but he's good at hiding his emotions. It's damn near impossible to tell what he's thinking. You'd have to ask him to know for sure."
Mari pulled away and looked at him in surprise. Her eyes were side and glazed with alcohol, her face flushed and slick with tears, her hair sticking to her sweaty forehead. "But I can't ask him something like that! He's my captain, and-"
"I'm your lieutenant, so if you can come to me with something like this, then you can-"
"But you're warm, Renji! I can talk to you! You're not like Byakuya! You can't tell what he's thinking, and-"
"If you'd stop interrupting me, I could tell you what to do, dammit!" Renji snapped irritably.
"You stop interrupting me!" Mari snapped back, the tears in her eyes making her anger seem half-hearted.
Renji figured it was rather absurd to argue with the girl that was crying in his lap, so he exhaled gustily and tried again. "Look, it's not like he'll hit you if you tell him how you feel. If he did, I'd kick his ass. But if you don't say anything, you won't know."
Mari had buried her face in Renji's shoulder again, and she remained their, quiet, for the next few moments. "Should I go now?" she asked finally, her voice muffled by Renji's flesh.
Renji hesitated. He figured she was asking because of the late hour, but it was more her state of drunkenness that had him worried. Then again, if she were near Byakuya while sober, she would probably clam up and not say a single meaningful thing. Perhaps being tipsy would make her a little more daring...?
"The sooner, the better," he told her. "If you hesitate, you'll lose him." Because I hesitated, and now I've lost you...
Mari remained silent, drinking in his familiar scent, like fire and salt and sweat and sugar and skin. He smelled a lot like Kohaku had over a century before. "Thank you, Renji." Her voice was tight and weak, holding back another onslaught of tears. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
Neither do I. But Renji didn't say it out loud. He instead chose to stay there and hold her in his arms, savoring the moment where he was the most important person in her life for just a few seconds longer.
Soul Society, Seireitei
11:03 p.m.
11:03 p.m.
Mari wandered the streets aimlessly for nearly half an hour. Soon she forgot where she was going, whom it was she was going to see, and what she was going to talk about once she found him. The starlight overhead was all-encompassing, and more than once she paused to gaze at the night sky with the open admiration of a small child.
After some forty minutes of meandering, Mari came to a stop, wobbling slightly as she tried to maintain an upright position. "Lights," she mumbled, and she fell over backwards onto her rear. It hurt a bit, but Mari barely noticed the pain. Her mind was busy fumbling over an object in her shihakusho that had prodded her when she fell. Mari reached into her uniform, and she sobered almost instantly when her fingers slipped over something smooth and light.
The box with Byakuya's scarf!
"Mari, why are you out here on your own at this hour?"
A strike of liquid lightning shot down Mari's spine as she looked behind her and into the dark eyes of Byakuya Kuchiki. Despite the fact that it was he that she had been looking for, seeing him now sent a shiver of shock to the tip of her toes and back. As he stood over her, he seemed even more imposing than usual, but Mari didn't feel an ounce of fear or trepidation. Of all things, she felt her cheeks grow hotter, and this wasn't attributed to the alcohol. "I... was... I was-" Mari stammered, no longer certain what his question had been.
"You've been drinking," Byakuya said, more as a statement than a guess.
Mari nodded vigorously, and she did so for longer than was necessary for Byakuya to understand her response.
His face was a neutral mask as it always was, Mari expected as much. But what she didn't expect was for Byakuya to stoop over, gather her in his arms, and then left her up as thought she weighed no more than a kitten. Mari let out a startled squeak and began to protest immediately without thinking.
"You can't walk in the condition you're in now, Mari."
His tone held so much authority that Mari fell still and silent. Byakuya began to walk, and the soothing sensation lulled her into a daze. With half-lidded eyes, she began to study her captain's face up close, having never had the opportunity or the reason to do so before.
His face seemed to be sculpted of marble, of porcelain, of some substance only the angels knew and kept hidden from the mortals so as to preserve its sanctity. His hair was as dark as his skin was light and stood out in the contrast of coal against snow. The silken locks framed his face like that of a doll's. Gray eyes like the sky at twilight, dark and sweeping lashes, high cheekbones, lips of a cherub, Byakuya embodied the essence of frozen winter and perfection. Mari felt the urge to touch him to ascertain whether or not he was real or just some vision that her eyes had conjured up. And in her drunken stupor, she did, reaching out with an unsteady hand and sliding her fingertips along one flawless cheek. He was cold like the deepest ice, tempering with the inebriated heat that pervaded Mari's skin. She felt Byakuya stiffen slightly at her touch, and his gaze flickered down towards hers. Mari could have sworn she saw something like curiosity in his eyes, but he looked back up before she could be certain.
"Where'r you... takin' me?" Mari mumbled, her words slurred by drink and fatigue.
Byakuya never answered her, or perhaps he did - she never recalled, for immediately after, she fell fast asleep in her captain's arms.
Soul Society, Seireitei
12:41 a.m.
12:41 a.m.
Mari woke slowly, and the first thing she was conscious of was the terrible headache budding just behind her temples. She groaned and sat up - she was in a bed. But not her room back at the barracks. Nor was it a room that Mari could recollect ever visiting. It was a simple little place, but clean and quietly elegant, like a dojo. Mari looked down at herself and found that she was clad in a clean white yukata adorned with sunflowers. Someone must have dressed her while she had been asleep.
After a moment, Mari stood, albeit shakily. It was still dark - she wagered it was still very early morning. Curious about her surroundings, she began to wander about the well-kept room, coming at last to an armoire on the far side of the room. Upon inspection through the clear glass doors, Mari saw nothing of consequence - just a vase of violets and a picture frame. The violets looked fresh and pristine as though they had just been picked. And in the picture frame was a beautiful young woman clad in a soft pink kimono. Her hair was black and shoulder-length, a stray lock drifting onto her face, which was soft and kind beneath the gentle smile on her lips. Her eyes were a deep blue with the barest traces of purple, like the bundle of violets beside the frame. Mari recognized the woman from her time as Sumiko - she had frequently seen the woman lying in the infirmary under the careful scrutiny of Captain Unohana herself, who had always looked upon her patient with sympathy and a sort of gentle sadness, for the woman had a sickness that could not be cured.
The woman bore a striking resemblance to her sister Rukia - same eyes; same hair, though Rukia's was slightly shorter and less frayed at the ends; and the same face... but the woman's was softer and sweeter due to the presence of a constant smile. Mari knew this woman to be dead.
This was Hisana Kuchiki, the late wife of Byakuya.
Byakuya.
It took Mari a moment, but then she remembered: Byakuya had carried her here. Where is he now? If a picture of Hisana was in the armoire, then it seemed logical that she had been taken to the Kuchiki estate. But it was disconcerting that she had been dumped in a noble's house with no one around that she was familiar with. Suddenly, Mari felt shy to venture out, despite the overwhelming urge to relieve herself.
Fortunately, there was no need for her to leave the room herself, as there came a gentle rapping on the door a few moments later. Hesitantly, Mari replied, "Come in?"
The door opened to reveal a man that wasn't Byakuya. It was an older fellow with white hair and thick mustache - Mari recognized him to be the Cleric of the Kuchiki House.
"Good evening, madam," he said, giving her a respectable bow. "My Lord Byakuya asked that I didn't disturb your sleep, but I worried that you might require my assistance."
"That's fine, I was already awake. I was wondering if I could use a bathroom?" Mari asked, trying to be polite despite the throbbing of her skull.
"Of course, madam. Right this way." The Cleric showed her to the restroom, and afterward he escorted her back to her room. "Is there anything else I can get for you?"
"No, sir. Thank you." Mari winced as her head gave another thunderous throb.
The Cleric noticed this. "You appear to be in pain, madam?"
Mari smiled ruefully. "I was drinking this evening, and I had too much, it seems."
The Cleric nodded in understanding. "Give me a moment, madam. I'll be back soon."
As the old man departed, Mari headed to the window. The starlight had grown stronger while she had slept, and the crescent moon hung like a cat's claw in the sky. She took a moment to reflect upon the conversation she'd had with Renji - what she could remember, anyway.
"Look, it's not like he'll hit you if you tell him how you feel. If he did, I'd kick his ass. But if you don't say anything, you won't know."
Mari sighed gustily. It was like Kisuke all over again... except this time, there were no Visoreds to keep her from sharing her feelings. Just herself.
I could do it. Tell him how I feel. Maybe it would've been easier when I was drunk, but I could still do it.
The door opened suddenly, and Mari let out a squeal and flailed about idiotically. Oh no that's him and I can't say anything to him not yet why would he just randomly show up when I'm thinking about him like this he can probably read minds and everything stupid Bya-
"Pardon me, madam, have I given you a fright?" the Cleric asked, holding a steaming mug and standing slightly stooped in the doorway.
Mari wilted like a dying flower. "No bother, sir. I was just... lost in thought." She gave a little laugh.
"I see. I have a beverage for you that I advise you to drink." The Cleric stepped towards her and handed her the mug, which was pleasantly warm to the touch. "It will soothe your head and any other symptoms you might have from too much drink."
Mari blinked and looked at the clear and steaming liquid in the cup. "Oh, th-thank you, sir."
"Anytime, madam." The old man bowed again. "Is there anything else you might require?"
"No, thank you."
"Very well. My Lord Byakuya should be joining you shortly."
"O-Okay."
The Cleric left, shutting the door behind him with a gentle click. Mari sighed again, taking a sip from the mug. The drink was rather sweet and tasted faintly of peppermint - she felt as though the invisible claws tearing at her brain were weakening almost instantly. Content, Mari sat upon the bed and nursed the beverage away, whilst thinking of Byakuya and wondering perhaps what she'd say when he finally showed up. She couldn't help but admire the cup she was holding, smooth and white and porcelain. Vaguely, Mari remembered touching Byakuya's face not long before, and the two had felt the same.
"Byakuya... Your face is a porcelain mug," Mari mumbled aloud. When she imagined saying this aloud to Byakuya himself... she immediately began to burst out in hoots of laughter.
"You appear to be quite content this evening."
Again, Mari squealed and looked over her shoulder, expecting the Cleric, but now this was indeed Byakuya, standing in the doorway as impassive and expressionless as ever.
Did he hear what I just said? There's no telling how long he's been standing there! Panicking internally, Mari smiled weakly and said, "Oh, g-good evening, captain. I'm sorry to have burdened you. Thank you for looking after me, but I'll be going now." She bowed and started to stand.
"I'd rather you stayed, Mari," said Byakuya, closing the door softly behind him. As he stepped closer to her, Mari felt her heart began to accelerate faster and faster.
"Y-Yes, sir," she stammered. "H-How long did I sleep?"
"About an hour and a half. Are you well rested?"
"Yes, captain." In reality, her body ached for sleep, but she didn't think she'd be able to close her eyes now.
"Then I must ask you to accompany me."
Mari blinked, confused. "Of course, sir... But where?"
"Out for a walk. Will you join me?"
"Yes, sir." Mari bowed.
As Byakuya headed for the door, he paused. "Also... You needn't refer to me as sir. My name will suffice."
Mari felt a tingle rush from her core to every last scrap of her body, and her face reddened. "Yes, s- Byakuya." The way her tongue wrapped around his name felt sinful... but she loved it.
Byakuya's facial expression hadn't changed. "Your geta are in the front. Let us go." As he left, Mari followed behind in a daze.
Soul Society, Seireitei, Kuchiki Estate
1:22 a.m.
1:22 a.m.
It was a forest that Byakuya led her to, just on the outskirts of the Kuchiki estate. A quiet little place, but it felt like it was humming with some sort of magic - but perhaps Mari was in such a daze that she saw stars everywhere, not just in the sky overhead.
The two of them went at a very slow, steady gait, their footsteps falling upon twigs and leaves as the only noise around. Mari felt unsettled by the silence, but whenever she glanced at Byakuya and saw the serene - almost happy - expression on his face, she felt that the quiet was perfectly fine.
She couldn't help but ask a question after fifteen minutes of walking. "Cap- I mean, Byakuya, where are we going exactly?"
"Does our destination matter?" Byakuya countered, giving her a sideways glance.
His gaze boiled in the pit of her stomach. "I suppose not," she murmured.
Again, they were in silence. They remained that way until at last they came upon a stream as wide as Mari's arm was long. It flowed smoothly, quietly, with nary a babble... slow and beautiful like-
Byakuya said, "We're nearly there."
"There?" Mari echoed.
Then they were there.
The stream had remained the same width all the time that they had followed it, but now it opened its mouth into a quaint little pond. It wasn't massive, but neither was it shallow - it appeared to be too deep to wade all the way across. A gazebo floated in the exact center, built upon a short boardwalk that ran an inch or two over the pond. Starlight danced in the faint ripples that webbed the water's surface, and occasionally Mari would see the bright orange head of a koi as it whisked about beneath the darkness.
And then there were the fireflies. Little floating lanterns, flickering on, off, slowing to a casual stop or speeding up according to their own individual whims. They were strewn about the forest backdrop like fallen yellow stars, but the night sky couldn't keep them bound in one place; they drifted along with the midnight breeze, silent and beautiful, their reflections in the water doubling their numbers. The lights danced in Mari's eyes, for she was too stupefied by her surroundings to even blink.
"Do you like it here?" Byakuya asked.
"I love it," Mari breathed. "Can we go to the gazebo?"
"Of course." Byakuya held out his hand. Mari stared at it as though she had never seen one before, a flush coming over her cheeks. Byakuya looked genuinely happy now - there was a light sparkle to his eyes and an upward quirk to his lips, and his face seemed softer and more relaxed. It was as though the splendor of their environment had put him into a trance.
Mari was in a trance, too, as she shyly took Byakuya's hand, her face growing warm as her blush spread out past her ears. Together they walked into the gazebo, taking a seat on the bench and staring out over the water. They sat there in silence, but as Mari's hand was still entwined in his, it was a silence she could take.
At last, Byakuya spoke. "You're the first person that I've brought to this place."
Mari's lashes flickered in surprise. "Really?"
"Yes."
"... Why me?"
Byakuya was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "You're different, Mari."
Mari tilted her head to the side, but Byakuya didn't elucidate, so she didn't press the matter further. Instead, she looked back out over the water. A sudden flash of light in the corner of her eye made her glance down, for there was a firefly crawling across her finger, glowing on occasion and then going out. She lifted her hand slowly, tightening her other hand upon Byakuya's. As the bug wandered toward her fingertip, Mari said, "I love fireflies."
Byakuya glanced at her. "Really?"
"Yes."
"... Why?"
Mari was quiet for a moment, and in that time, the firefly lit like a tiny flame. Then she said, "They just make me happy. They remind me of life. If you want something, you have to catch it like you would a firefly - gently, so you don't crush it..." The bug fluttered away, but Mari seized it before it could get too far. She opened her palm, and the firefly scuttled toward her thumb, flashing indignantly. "But firmly, so it can't fly away."
Byakuya had watched her during her narrative, and it was as though his thoughtful gaze had triggered Mari's memory, for she let out an "Oh!" and released his hand to rummage through her shihakusho. The firefly fidgeted a bit but didn't take flight.
Mari took the box from her uniform and opened it, gingerly removing the scarf and feeling it in her hand. It was a silvery-white like the winter sky stained with snow, soft and warm like kitten fur and moist like the underside of a dew-laden leaf. "I wanted to return this," she said, offering the scarf to Byakuya.
Her captain stared at it for a few moments, and then he looked up into Mari's eyes. Feeling somewhat disconnected from the scene, as though it wasn't really happening to her, Mari noticed for the first time Byakuya's bare neck. She wondered what he told everyone that had asked about the scarf's whereabouts over the past two weeks. Or maybe no one asked; it was Byakuya, after all.
"Why are you returning it?" Byakuya asked, jolting Mari back into reality.
“Because… it’s yours…?”
“Keep it.”
Mari’s eyes widened. “What? But…!”
“Mari.” Byakuya leaned forward, and Mari swallowed hard as the distance between them closed. She wondered if she was imagining the heat in Byakuya’s ice-cold eyes. “I gave that to you. Keep it.”
“But I can’t!” Mari held it up for him to take, feeling numb. Perhaps she was trying to ward him away, because his closeness was frazzling her as the seconds peeled by. “It’s… It’s a… I’m nothing!” she finally snapped, caving beneath that intense gaze. “I’m nothing compared to you! I don’t deserve something like this! This is a sign of nobility!” The firefly’s wings fluttered as though startled when she raised her voice, but it stayed put.
Byakuya, completely unperturbed by the outburst, reached up, laid his hand on hers, and gently but firmly pushed it and the scarf down by her side. That single touch alone made Mari feel lightheaded. “You are deserving of nobility. Even more so than I.”
Mari looked down at the scarf. For the second time that night, she asked, “Why me?”
For the second time that night, Byakuya answered, “You’re different, Mari.”
“There’s nothing worthy I can give you in return.”
“I didn’t ask for anything in return.”
“But…”
“What would you like to give me, Mari?” Byakuya held out a hand and slowly ran it through a loose lock of her hair.
Mari’s eyes went wide, surprised and anxious. She was silent for a moment, trying to think of what to say, but it was too difficult to think, too difficult to breathe, when Byakuya was so close.
“I’d give you anything,” she said.
Byakuya leaned in, and Mari gasped as his mouth hovered over her collarbone, breathing warmth onto her skin. “Tell me,” he said, lifting his gaze. His gray eyes burned into hers with an intensity that should have frightened her. “Why do you wear a shuriken in your hair?”
Mari’s heart was beating erratically, and she couldn’t inhale quickly enough to please her trembling body. She then said the five most familiar words she knew, even if they hadn’t been spoken in over a hundred years.
“Can you take it out?”
Byakuya didn’t look at all confused by her question. He reached up, took hold of the shuriken, and tugged on it once.
Simultaneously, the firefly spread out its wings and fluttered away from Mari’s grip.
At first, Mari didn’t feel anything, but then her hair fell against the back of her neck in one thick curtain. She was incapable of speech, even when Byakuya held the shuriken before her eyes.
“You…” Mari couldn’t finish her sentence. She was too busy staring at his fingers, his perfect, long, beautiful white fingers, and her brain could barely register the fact that there was no blood dripping from those fingers.
And the man who does not cut his finger – and there will only be one – will be the man that is destined to walk beside you for as long as you both shall live.
“I…”
Byakuya picked up the box that Mari had put aside, placing both the scarf and the shuriken inside before closing it up and storing it beneath their bench. Close by, a firefly lit itself brilliantly, but Mari didn’t have the time to watch it; Byakuya’s tongue had started to lap a slow trail up her neck, and she could only whimper softly in response.
Byakuya licked along Mari’s jaw, nipped at her chin, and then pulled his face back to look her in the eyes. Mari suddenly found herself comparing him to Kisuke. Their eyes were both gray, but Kisuke’s eyes were sad like the rain, while Byakuya’s burned with a cold, gunmetal fire. Kisuke’s face was peach-colored, unshaven, handsome in a clumsy, lopsided sort of way. Byakuya’s face was white and clean and beautiful and perfect, cold and smooth like porcelain, so flawless that he seemed unreal. It took Mari’s breath away to be so close to him, so near to those perfect lips.
She knew what he was going to say the moment he opened his mouth.
“Give me your body.”
Mari attacked his lips, hands grasping desperately at Byakuya’s neck. They kissed hungrily, biting on each other’s lips and sucking on one another’s tongues. Then, Byakuya took Mari’s shoulder and slowly leaned backwards, lying on his back and dragging her on top of him. Immediately, he claimed her mouth again. His grip was gentle, so as not to crush her, but firm – so she wouldn’t dream of getting away.
As if she would ever try.
They broke the kiss, gasping for breath against each other’s mouths, and Mari said, “I’ll give you more than that. I’ll give you everything if you want it.” She felt a tremor at the despair in her voice, but she could no longer blame alcohol for what she was saying. And she didn’t regret it at all.
Byakuya pushed her hair back, leaned up, and licked along her ear. “I want it.”
“Thank God,” Mari laughed, sounding hysterical, but this gave way to a loud groan as Byakuya sucked at her neck. “Captain…!”
“I told you to call me by my name, Mari.”
“Byakuya,” Mari breathed, arching her neck as Byakuya consumed it. “Byakuya!”
“Mari,” Byakuya murmured against her skin, and then he moved up and pulled her into another passionate kiss.
They remained this way for five minutes, ten, thirty, an hour. Mari made up for a hundred years’ worth of lust, touched and loved in ways that she hadn’t been since she lost her heart to Kisuke Urahara. Back then, she had dreamed of confessing… touching him… kissing him… loving him… and having him do all the same to her. But now, it was different. Byakuya was touching her and kissing her and loving her, and while she hadn’t quite confessed to him, she didn’t feel the need to. At least, not right now.
At last they slowed, their hunger abated for the present. Byakuya laid a single, soft peck against Mari’s reddened lips, and then he pulled away, leaving Mari to sink like a boneless doll against him. They were silent, but for once, there were no words that needed to be said. Mari rode on such a high that it was only his touch that kept her from floating away entirely. The fireflies were still floating about like glowing ghosts, giving the surroundings a dreamlike haze.
And even if this was only a dream, Mari was willing to believe it was real.
This is actually the second time I wrote this. XD The first time around was shorter and a great deal more explicit towards the end, so I've gone back and edited everything and added more content. I'm a great deal more fond of it this time. <3 I enjoy writing as Mari - she's so butch, but as far as love goes, she reverts to a school girl when it comes to her crushes and confusion. It's adorable! x3 I hope you enjoyed~