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For all their might and influence on the affairs of Seireitei and Rukongai, the affairs of the Great Noble Clans of Seireitei are a mystery to most outside the bubble of high nobility. Even for lesser nobles, much of the goings-on in the Great Houses were second- and third-hand accounts, for the Great Clans have no desire or inclination to be perceived as mere run-of-the mill souls with petty grievances. Or with any grievances.
The houses Shiba and Kuchiki are in great turmoil, and hardly anyone outside the respective estates is aware of the matter. Bursts of lashing spiritual energy, spilling over the Kuchiki estates’ borders into the streets, are dismissed. The Kuchikis are known for their lack of impulse-control, young Master Byakuya most of all.
Inside the estate, behind many shoji doors, Kuchiki Ginrei and his councillors find young Byakuya’s temperament much less amusing.
“Control yourself,” Ginrei says, low and threatening. Ginrei never raises his voice. He has no need to shout to assert his command.
Byakuya feels his grandfather’s words. They’re accompanied by a targeted stab of his reiatsu. It leaves a sting across Byakuya’s cheek. Slapping Byakuya would be an undignified display, whereas reiatsu is imperceptible to anyone who isn’t a shinigami.
“I apologise, Ginrei-sama,” Byakuya manages between gritted teeth.
Ginrei does not acknowledge Byakuya’s apology, but Byakuya had not expected his grandfather to do so. He has always been reticent, even more so since Byakuya’s father died.
“May I ask why you and the council have come to this...decision?” Byakuya asks, forcing calm into his words.
His fists are clenched on his thighs where he’s kneeling in seiza across from his grandfather. The three council elders, Ginrei’s brother, and two distant cousins of Byakuya’s father are lined up behind Ginrei, all of them with identical severe expressions.
“Because we have determined it to be the best course of action in light of the family’s recent challenges,” Byakuya’s great uncle answers, his voice gravelly like distant thunder.
The death of Sōjun is what he means, causing Byakuya to clench his fists again. His father’s death is an inconvenience to the clan.
“But why this?” Byakuya interjects.
“Do not presume you are owed answers, boy,” Kuchiki Oda chides.
“As the heir, I feel it is my duty to understand the motivations of the council so I can act in the clan’s best interest.”
Textbook answer. His tutors would be impressed that any of their lessons in rhetoric and etiquette stuck after all.
Ginrei does not look impressed. The wrinkles on the council’s foreheads smooth a little, however.
“The Shiba clan finds itself under pressure at the moment,” Ginrei explains. “There is a threat of instability to the main branch. Yet, the Shiba are a powerful family. The Kuchikis have often aligned themselves with them in the past. As you may remember, Byakuya, your grandmother was a Shiba.”
Of course Byakuya remembers. The lineage of all 26 heads of the Kuchiki clan has been drilled into him since before he could walk. The Great Noble Houses have often intermarried to strengthen ties and influence. And, of course, to keep the rabble out of the bloodline. Byakuya’s mother came from a minor branch of the Shihōin clan, which had apparently generated some tutting back in the day because it could be considered a weak match for the Kuchiki heir. Byakuya heard from one of his older cousins once that his mother won Ginrei and the council over at the first meeting, so they allowed the match. Ginrei, too, had been allowed the courtesy to choose his partner, as long as the match was sensible.
“I get no say in the matter?”
“It is at the discretion of the head of the clan and the council that the heir gets to select their spouse,” Kuchiki Himiko intones, voice growing irritated. “There is turmoil on the horizon, and we feel the clan is ultimately better served by the long term stability the match will provide than indulging fancies.”
“But Shiba Kaien?” Byakuya bursts out before biting his tongue once again, the threatening pressure of Ginrei’s reiatsu bearing down on him.
As a member of the Gotei Thirteen, and through serving under Byakuya’s tutor Ukitake-taichō, Shiba Kaien is not a complete stranger to Byakuya. In fact, they’ve rubbed each other the wrong way more than once. Shiba had the gall to call Byakuya impertinent; a pot calling the kettle black could not be more on the nose.
“With the unfortunate demise of the head of the Shiba clan and his eldest son, Shiba Kaien is the likely successor. Some of the minor branches are poised to challenge his legitimacy. It would threaten his life and that of his siblings if a rebellion broke out within the clan. Tying his line to the Kuchiki succession would cement his claim, and the Kuchiki clan would also benefit from strengthening its direct line of succession.”
In other words, the Shiba clan is desperate, and the Kuchiki clan opportunistic. It would give the Kuchiki family unprecedented power over another Great Noble House. The Shiba clan would be indebted to the Kuchikis for generations.
“Why not Kūkaku?” Byakuya asks. “For a direct line of succession, that seems like a more logical choice.”
Mild displeasure crosses the faces of the council.
“It was Shiba Kaien’s condition,” Kuchiki Hisahide says. “He will be available for any match the Kuchiki clan deems appropriate, in exchange for his siblings’ freedom to choose whichever path they may wish to take.”
“After recent events, one would expect you might prefer the companionship of Shiba Kaien over that of his sister,” Ginrei adds, and Byakuya flushes at the clear rebuke.
Byakuya had caused a minor kerfuffle some months ago, after he’d been caught in a rather compromising position with a young officer of the clan’s private security force. Even with the swift dismissal of the officer, the gossip had permeated the noble houses within a matter of days. Byakuya had received a comprehensive tongue-lashing at the hands of his grandfather at the council, lamenting Byakuya’s indiscretion, and with the help no less.
Unsurprisingly, Byakuya is not the first clan heir in Seireitei to prefer men, though the clans usually love direct bloodline succession too much to allow marriages. From what Byakuya has gleaned in the endless archives of the clan, the inconvenience was often solved by marrying the heir to a woman with an agenda of her own, task them with producing a blood heir and then let them do whatever they pleased as long as it wasn’t conducted in public. Byakuya had expected one of these matches to come knocking at his door after being found out. Having Shiba Kaien come knocking was rather unexpected.
“And how does Shiba Kaien feel about the match?” Byakuya asks, voice tart.
“He and his advisors agreed to it,” Kuchiki Himiko replies, a note of glee in her voice at tripping Byakuya up.
“And what of the succession?”
Marrying the heirs of their respective clans to each other is a powerful statement to Seireitei’s nobility. When both heirs are male, however, it poses questions for the succession in both clans.
“The Shiba clan allying itself with the Kuchiki clan gives us many new avenues to choose suitable heirs through adoption. It has been considered in our deliberations. Precedent for this situation exists.”
Indeed. The 12th and 17th heads of the Kuchiki clan had suffered setbacks in securing blood heirs, and resorted to adoption of nephews or other suitable relatives. In the minor noble clans, adoption has been widespread for centuries. The Great Noble Houses have traditionally favoured direct lineages, but adoption is not unheard of. The lure of gaining influence over the Shiba clan is stronger than the aversion to interrupting the direct line – one that’s already tenuous with Sōjun only having a single child before his demise, and his two sisters married into lesser noble houses.
Byakuya, even with his relative youth and lack of experience, senses that he’d been outmaneuvered long before he set foot into the parlour.
“Does my objection matter?” he asks, but he can guess the answer.
“No,” Ginrei replies with finality. “The match will be announced tomorrow. It’s a courtesy of the council to inform you ahead of its publication. You may take the rest of the day to prepare.”
Byakuya knows a dismissal when he hears it.
He bows. “Thank you, Ginrei-sama.”
His cheeks burn with suppressed anger and embarrassment as he leaves the room.
The announcement creates considerable buzz throughout Seireitei’s nobles, and even makes its way into the upper districts of the Rukongai. Two heirs to clan leadership marrying is a rare event – the last occurrence being between the Shihōin and Tsunayashiro over nine hundred years ago.
Byakuya found this fact when up to his shoulders in the records of the Kuchiki archives, trawling the files and diaries and letters for ways to get him out of his predicament. The wizened archivist employed by the Kuchiki clan to take care of the day-to-day tasks has been vexed by Byakuya’s presence, to say the least. It’s not that Byakuya has ever been disinterested in history and its recordings, and he’s aware that his future position in the clan requires him to be extensively involved in the archives, no matter how he were to feel about them.
But whereas Kuchiki Sōjun had been a true scholar, spending much of his free time in the archives and quite often bringing along his young son to read to him from the diaries of the Fifth Head of the Kuchiki Clan, Kuchiki Nobuhide, who was renowned for his great humour and whimsical illustrations of his diary entries. And then, when Byakyua was a little older, the letters of Kuchiki Yuko, later Kyōraku Yuko, youngest sister to the Tenth Head of the Kuchiki Clan, to her confidante Ise Rinka. Though the letters were mostly mundane, Sōjun taught Byakuya that the voices of those outside of immediate power were just as worth preserving.
Byakuya hadn’t come back to the archives since his father’s passing, the walls too permeated with Sōjun’s absence. Since Byakuya has always been much fonder of swordplay than his father had ever been, Byakyua’s distancing from the archives had not raised many eyebrows. Most assumed that once he got over his youthful vigour, he’d resume his studies in the archives. To see Byakuya march back inside, on the day of his engagement, and command the archivist and his clerks to produce every record pertaining to marriage as fast as possible was odd, no doubt.
Polite inquiries as to what exactly he was looking for, so that the archivists could narrow down the volume of material went unanswered, as did the offers of assistance.
Byakuya, hoping the records may assist him in finding a precedent, a loophole, or a moral argument within the history of Seireitei that would allow him to object to his clan’s insistence to marry him to Shiba Kaien, has a suspicion that the archive will prove less useful than expected.
While the Kuchiki clan leaders usually serve in the Gotei and achieve a honourable military record, the entire rest of the clan is involved in the keeping and procuring of Seireitei’s history. Two of Ginrei’s advisors are some of the foremost experts on law in all of Seireitei, and many others of Byakuya’s history are scholars on anything from the history of agriculture to the standards of fashion among the lower noble houses over the last 2000 years. It stands to reason that when the Shiba and Kuchiki councils hatched their plan, someone would have thought of an old, dusty anecdote of a noble betrothal being dissolved if there were one to remember.
Byakuya, with his limited training and even more limited patience, soon realised that he’d been soundly thwarted.
Well-wishes and notes of congratulation pour in from everybody who is somebody. Servants present them to Byakuya, Ginrei and the council with the necessary flourish. The notes are on elegant papers, decorated with fine calligraphy and delicate watercolour drawings, wishing a prosperous future to the heirs of the Kuchiki and Shiba clan. Many come accompanied with gifts: fresh fruit of the highest degree of quality, looking in their decorated boxes like someone painted them with utmost care. Exquisit silks, with patterns varying from richly embroidered in colours appropriate for every season, to subtle weavings with geometric patterns and the crests of both houses.
Byakuya hasn’t even spoken to Shiba Kaien, and yet he is forced to send servants back with notes of gratitude.
“My my my, Byakua-bo,” comes a voice when Byakuya is hiding in the gardens one afternoon, in an attempt to have some respite from the parade of servants bringing gifts.
Byakuya’s hackles rise, his irritation fierce and instant.
“Yoruichi,” he hisses, and watches the infernal woman step forwards from behind a tree where she no doubt laid in wait for him.
She fusses with her robe and haori, as if she just put them on (which is most likely the case), but her smile is sharp and full of teeth. Mischief twinkles in her eyes.
“Engaged, are we?” she sign-songs and winks. “You sure are all grown-up now.”
“Shut up,” Byakuya snaps, as per usual unconcerned that he’s showing a complete lack of respect for the head of a noble clan. Shihōin Yourichi has never not been a nuisance with her overly familiar ways.
“And to Shiba Kaien,” Yoruichi goes on, indifferent to Byakuya’s blatant irritation. She circles him like prey. “I have to admit, he’s a good catch. He’s very handsome.”
Byakyua attempts to use shunpo to flash-step out of sight and earshot, but Yoruichi follows him with ease across the koi pond and beyond the tea house, into the dense crop of bamboo further back in the gardens.
“What do you want?” Byakuya asks when running fails to solve the problem.
“To congratulate of course,” Yourichi says with the voice of the innocent and the smile of the devil. “It’s not every day that a family friend gets engaged. And such an illustrious match at that. The story sounds quite romantic.”
Byakuya can feel the flush creep into his cheeks.
Though dressed up in formal phrases and language, the joint announcement by the Shiba and Kuchiki clan suggested that it was a love match rather than a political one. One that observed all the traditional decorum of course. No illicit, torrid meetings between the betrothed parties before the wedding. It’s all very proper.
“You know it’s nonsense,” Byakyua growls at a still grinning Yoruichi.
She’s head of a clan, she knows how they handle their affairs and how to read between the lines of announcements.
“Tut tut,” she says. “What would poor Kaien think, if he heard you speak so dismissively of your love for each other.”
“I will murder you,” Byakuya threatens. Not that he could, but he would try.
“You can’t be surprised your family was eager to have you married off after that little mishap with the security,” Yoruichi snorts and leans against the trunk of a cherry tree behind her. “You caused quite a stir, Byakuya-bo.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“The Shiba must have pounced, when they heard.”
Byakuya’s brow furrows, curious despite himself. “Why?”
“You see, for all that Shiba Kaien is a model son in most ways,” Yoruichi says and raises an index finger to command attention. “He’s got a few notable indiscretions to his name.”
“This is the first I hear of it,” Byakuya mutters.
“No one’s that interested in the relatively harmless antics of a young noble when they’re not the heir apparent,” Yoruichi counters. “And Kaien wasn’t meant to become clan leader. Now that he finds himself in that position, his branch of the clan is nervous his history might be used against him. Some of the other branches are like sharks smelling blood in the water, they’re that eager to destroy his reputation and maybe even use it as a justification to have him assassinated. You can’t use a shock tactic when it’s suddenly legitimised. Now his behaviour netted the Shiba clan the biggest gain in power in hundreds of years. All because the only eligible heir to the Kuchiki clan leadership got caught red-handed in a stable.”
Yoruichi cackles, even as Byakuya chases her across the gardens and ruins the carefully manicured trees and grass with blasts of kidō.
Byakuya sees Shiba Kaien for the first time after their engagement over a month later, during a formal meeting between the two clan councils to finalise the details and timeline of the marriage.
Byakuya may be the groom, but he’s not invited to the meeting since he’s neither clan leader nor part of the council. Kaien, as interim (and soon to be confirmed permanent) leader of the Shiba clan gets to be present. He watches the flock of Shiba file along the courtyards through a crack in the shoji doors of his rooms, eyes glued to Kaien, who brings up the rear of his group.
So far, Byakuya has only ever seen him in the standard issue Gotei shihakushō – the black hakama, sage green kimono and stone grey haori he’s wearing now are a notable change for him. This way, he doesn’t look out of place with his noble contingent, though some of his family members seem to have opted for the most opulent dress they could get away with before it became an obvious slight against the Kuchiki. Byakuya himself has never been fond of brocaded and overly embroidered clothing. He appreciates fine material and good craftsmanship, but like his father and grandfather he prefers to keep it simple.
Kaien wears a sober expression along his plain attire, another unusual feature. The man usually sports the same kind of cheerful expression that Yoruichi favours, so it’s only natural that Shiba’s face reflexively annoys Byakuya.
Byakuya would have liked to continue his study, but Kaien looks up over his shoulder suddenly, staring straight in the direction where Byakuya is spying from his door. With a flick of his wrist, Byakuya closes the screen door, heart hammering.
He’s not sure that Kaien actually saw him, but Byakuya would rather not be caught spying.
Least of all by Kaien himself.
The next day, Byakuya learns he’s to be married in six months time, on the grounds of the Kuchiki estate when the cherry blossoms are at the peak of bloom.
After the wedding, they are expected to split their time between the estates of both families, for at least five years. They are free to choose a main residence after, or opt to keep separate residences. The latter has Byakuya perk up a little. He’d already been plotting to move into the Gotei barracks as soon as he became a seated officer to cut off any forced cohabitation. All the better if he could get the Kuchiki estate to himself.
A yuinō has been arranged to be held three months before the wedding, and from now until the ceremony, Byakuya and Kaien may only see each other in the presence of the Kuchiki or Shiba family matchmakers or a trusted chaperone, such as Ukitake-taichō.
Byakuya feels he ought to scoff at the notion that their virtue requires protecting, but he has no plans to see the Shiba heir any more than he has to. For all that he cares, they never need to be alone in a room together. But since their families have fed the assumption that Byakuya and Kaien were a love match, having a chaperone for appearance’s sake is to be expected. Byakuya plans to make their job horribly boring.
The next three months, Byakuya works hard to not be reminded of his impending nuptials, but it proves to be an exercise in futility.
Ukitake-taichō, when he has the time and health to instruct Byakuya, is an excellent teacher but also an incorrigible romantic. Byakuya thinks it must be Kyōraku-taichō’s influence at work, since he is widely known to be dramatic and a gossip. Ukitake laments that neither Byakuya nor Kaien are willing to discuss anything about their relationship and marriage with him. Byakuya even says that there is nothing to discuss, and as a noble himself, albeit from a lower class, Ukitake-taichō ought to be able to put two and two together why all of a sudden, the engagement of two caln heirs is announced in the middle of a turmoil. More and more, it dawns on Byakuya that Ukitake-taichō wants to believe it’s a voluntary or even a love match.
Byakuya is slightly mortified when one day, Ukitake-taichō suggests in a roundabout way that should he ever want to spend some time alone with Kaien, he would be willing to look the other way for a while. He even winks when he says it.
The only consolation is that hopefully, Shiba Kaien is suffering just as much embarrassment as Byakuya is.
The yuinō is a grandstanding affair, even when measured against Byakuya’s high tolerance for pomp.
Byakuya is not part of the planning process, but he has a good rapport with some of the servants who are present at the meetings and in charge of coordinating the event, so he hears some of it anyway. This likely wasn’t what his grandfather meant when he taught Byakuya that fostering a personal connection with the senior staff will be beneficial to the household in the long run.
Tomoe had been more or less solely in charge of raising Byakuya after his mother’s death until he was deemed old enough to not require a nanny any longer. She cares for other children of the clan now, but Byakuya was one of her closest charges, and is still as fond of him as if he were only coming up to her hip instead of towering nearly a head above her. Without fail, she will produce a yuzu-flavoured sweet from her sleeves and give it to him, whenever she sees him. Byakuya doesn’t much like sweets anymore these days, but he will eat them anyway. Tomoe is well-connected inside the estate, the staff and family members trust her implicitly with almost anything – which makes Tomoe his primary source for news about the yuinō.
Thankfully, Tomoe doesn’t comment on the arrangement at all. She talks about it as if it weren’t happening to Byakuya, but to a distant cousin instead. No doubt she’s aware that Byakuya had little choice in the matter, but she knows when to have an opinion or not.
There was much debate over where the yuinō would take place, but the families settled on the Shiba estate. Traditionally, it’s held at the bride’s home, but since there is no bride, there were worries about what the choice of venue might suggest to outsiders. Apparently, it was quite the negotiation, or so Tomoe says.
Without being consulted, Byakuya gets stuffed into a winter-appropriate kimono of fine black cotton with a bamboo pattern, but he puts his foot down when it comes to his hair. He forgoes all manner of hair ornaments the attendants brought along and insists on his usual high ponytail.
In deference to the weather, he adds fingerless gloves to his outfit, but it’s the only ornamentation he will allow himself. He has no desire to impress anyone.
The families, to Byakuya’s relief, treat the yuinō as a ritual, and not a competition over who can bring the most prestigious gifts. In lieu of his parents, Byakuya brings Ginrei and Himiko, whereas Kaien brought his uncle and a cousin. The Shiba matchmaker, Kanae-san, is present as well, but she’s had precious little to do over the last three months, so she’s decidedly more terse than at the first meeting.
Gifts of kelp, abalone, bonito, symbolic amounts of money, flasks of fine sake, fans and bales of embroidered silk, the latter two rich with motifs of cranes, turtles, bamboo, and pine to signify all the desired values of a marriage, are exchanged with the appropriate phrases. During the process, Byakuya keeps his eyes trained onto a point right above Kaien’s right shoulder. He may sit across from Kaien, but that does not mean he has to look at him. Occasionally, Kaien tries to catch Byakuya’s gaze and frowns when Byakuya remains resolute in his determination to act like Kaien is not present.
The meal served after the exchange of gifts is excellent. The Shiba have talented chefs working for them – everything is cooked to perfection, every single plate just the right balance of flavours, but with just as much care dedicated to the textures and aesthetics. For the duration of the meal, Byakuya forgets he’s not supposed to be enjoying any aspect of this. It’s appreciation of the chef’s talents, Byakuya thinks. It’s only proper not to scowl at his food.
Byakuya extracts himself from the room after he has consumed the right amount of sake to not be rude and asks for permission to have a walk on the Shiba grounds. The four elders are swept up into conversation and dismiss him easily.
“Would you like me to give you a tour?” Kaien asks and Byakuya sees an excited gleam in the matchmaker’s eyes, like she finally senses a chance to oversee them.
“No,” Byakuya says. “Thank you,” he adds, to observe basic decency, and flash-steps away as soon as the shoji door glides shut behind him.
The grounds of the Shiba estate are not as extensive or as renowned for their beauty as the gardens of the Kuchiki, but they are well-tended with plenty of trees to disappear from sight. Much nicer than those of the Shihōin estate – those always make Byakuya feel like he’s entered a desert. The Shihōin prefer stone gardens and vast open spaces to a degree that makes Byakuya uncomfortable whenever he is there.
Byakuya has chosen to wander into a dense collection of pines, enjoying the shelter the trees give from the cold winds. It has been snowing for the last few days and the ground and tree tops are dusted white. It’s quite peaceful.
Not so much anymore when Byakuya senses the approach of a familiar reiatsu a split second before Kaien appears next to him, ruffled from shunpo. Kanae-san is nowhere in sight.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” Byakuya says, frosty as the snow around him.
Kaien’s mouth pulls into a displeased, thin line. “Really?”
Byakuya raises an eyebrow, but says nothing. They’re more or less concealed behind a row of trees, unlikely to be detected by anyone looking into the gardens from the house. If Byakuya had to guess, Kaien got one or more staff to cover for him to be able to slink into the gardens. Byakuya has his own enablers among the Kuchiki staff.
“I thought it might be good if we could at least talk to each other without ten people watching,” Kaien says and peers around the trunk of the pine that’s concealing them.
“I don’t see why that’s necessary,” Byakuya retorts, considering the benefits of just flash-stepping away. “Our families would be displeased to know this is happening.”
“Well, you’re always running off when I turn up at Ukitake-taichō’s,” Kaien says and shrugs. His attire is as formal as Byakuya’s, but his body language is much more casual than Byakuya would ever allow himself. “I’m not sure why you’re mad at me, but this whole thing wasn’t my idea either.”
“I heard marrying a Kuchiki was your idea,” Byakuya scoffs, crossing his arms.
“I suggested a marriage,” Kaien retorts. “I expected a miai with whatever minor unmarried family members were willing to be introduced to me, not a take-it-or-leave-it offer to marry the clan heir.”
Byakuya wishes he had something to do with his hands. This discussion does nothing but fill him with irritation and nervous energy. At least Kaien had his zanpakutō by his side. Byakuya hasn’t been able to hear the voice of his own sword yet, and he isn’t a seated member of the Sixth Division, so he doesn’t carry his blade outside of training. By all accounts, the spirit of your zanpakutō is a calming presence in the back of your mind. Byakuya wouldn’t mind having something like that at the moment.
“Your clan council must have been overjoyed,” Byakuya says, voice dry.
Kaien snorts. “They were, actually,” he says. “It’s going to keep my family line firmly in place for clan leadership. I couldn’t care less about being the clan leader, but it keeps my siblings safe.”
Byakuya doesn’t have any siblings, but he’s certainly no stranger to tales of assassinations when the lineage is destabilised. The primary reason why Byakuya doesn’t have to constantly fear poisons in his food or knife attacks in his bedroom is that there are no strong contenders in other branches of the Kuchiki clan. Otherwise, he’d be an easy target as a single child of a dead heir.
“Look,” Kaien continues. “I don’t expect us to fall madly in love. You’re a prickly bastard at the best of times. We’re going to have to live with this. It’d be great if we could at least get along.”
“I don’t need a friend,” Byakuya all but hisses. Prickly bastard, is he?
Kaien sighs. “Honestly,” he says and his stance changes. “I think you do.”
Before Byakuya can hurl some choice words in his direction, Kaien flash-steps away, leaving Byakuya to stand in the snow by himself.
Byakuya refuses to acknowledge the sudden oppressiveness of the dark, cold silence that surrounds him.
Shiba Kaien knows nothing.
Byakuya, known to have the disposition of a mule, has to eventually admit defeat about three weeks before the wedding.
He’s read what feels like every single letter, court document, Central 46 decree, diary, and clan history contained in the vast archives of the Kuchiki estate. The biggest library and archive in all of Seireitei, and not a single thing that would help him get out of the marriage. Most of the arguments he could find were too weak or too unrelated to his own predicament.
All in all, he found more documents supporting an alliance between the households than advising against it.
It seems like he will have to get married. Unless he wants to abandon his position as heir to the clan.
Byakuya entertained the notion, sitting between stacks of documents piled high in the dimly lit reading chambers for rare historic documents. Clan leadership is not something Byakuya consciously wants. Or doesn’t want. His path has never been in question, and before his father died, Byakuya eventually leading the clan was still centuries away. Before Sōjun’s last (and final) bout of illness, Ginrei had been planning his retirement, giving it about a decade of transition to prepare his son for taking over.
Retirement has been on hold, but certainly not for another few centuries. As soon as Byakuya’s general tutoring and education has concluded, he expects to be fast-tracked into leadership. A process no doubt more gruelling than any of his tutoring has ever been.
He could abandon his post. He’s of age and has the right to emancipate himself.
No doubt he’d fall out of favour everywhere. He’d have to remove himself from the estate, but there are a vast number of minor properties that belong to the clan that Byakuya could occupy. Abandoning leadership would likely mean abandoning his place in the Sixth Division. A place he still has to earn, because Kuchiki Ginrei does not play favourites even for his grandson. Byakuya knows he can eventually secure a seat in most divisions, outside perhaps Fourth and Twelfth since they’re specialised. And Eleventh, because he’s not a barbarian and that seems to be a requirement.
Byakuya carefully fingers the edges of the bookmark he’s been using throughout his quest. It’s fine craftsmanship, carved from delicate wood and painted with a motif of a tree heavy with cherry blossoms. A hand-knit tassel dangles from the bottom, its strands a little worn from continued use. The bookmark belonged to his father for the longest time, and he’d given it to Byakuya not long before his death. A gift from his mother to Sōjun for their wedding. They’d decided to gift each other just one item of significance, Sōjun once explained to Byakuya when he was much smaller and eager to hear stories about a mother he barely remembered. She’d given Sōjun this bookmark because of his love of reading. It was exquisitely crafted, but still a simple gift for nobles. Though Sōjun used it long after any other wedding gift had been relegated to storage.
“Pass it on when you get married, Byakuya,” Sōjun said. “It was a good luck charm for your mother and I.”
Byakuya scoffs lightly at the memory. This probably wasn’t what his father had in mind when he gave it to him.
But, more importantly, his father never ran away. He’d been much better off as a scholar, buried in books all day, and much more capable at taking care of his health when the heaviest burden was lifting old tomes. Sōjun knew the stress of leadership was bad for him, knew that fighting in the Gotei would make it worse. And he did it anyway, because it was his duty. He never complained or tried to get out of anything.
Seeing his son trying to shirk his duty to the clan, Sōjun wouldn’t be impressed.
Byakuya leaves with the bookmark tucked into the inside of his yukata, papers and documents abandoned in the archive’s workspace.
It’s only when he’s at the kaiseki that Byakuya realises the whole wedding day has passed him by like he was an observer of the proceedings, not the main event.
Byakuya moves his head almost imperceptibly to the right to see Kaien next to him lifting a slice of pickled daikon from a careful arrangement of spring vegetables. He’s speaking to his younger sister, who’s been trying to convince him that persimmons are superior to mangoes (Byakuya agrees with her, though he hasn’t inserted himself into the discussion), and looks like he’s having fun entertaining the ridiculous argument. His posture is relaxed and open.
During the ceremony, he’d looked servere, the few times Byakuya glanced over. Byakuya himself had probably looked much the same, but the wedding ceremonies of nobility are so traditional and full of exacting performances and rituals, that severe is the appropriate look. Going through all the required motions, Byakuya had never felt more like a political prop than at that time.
The night before, he’d sat at his parents’ graves and promised to be more mindful of his duties. So Byakuya grits his teeth and does what he’s supposed to.
He says the necessary words and performs the rituals and gestures to the letter. Some modifications were made to account for two grooms and the fact that neither of them would be leaving their clan and name to join the other household. Both clans want to make it painstakingly clear that neither clan defers to the other. In reality, the Kuchiki clan has the upper hand in the bargain, simply because the Shiba family needed the Kuchiki more than the Kuchiki needed the Shiba.
Thankfully, the gathering isn‘t as large as Byakuya had feared. It‘s a wedding of high ranking members of two of the Great Noble Houses, so even a downsized guest list is large, but Byakuya thinks his request for a more modest size was taken into account. Even the ceremony and reception are pared down. Not so much that any outside guest would question it, but the Kuchiki clan is known to prefer a more minimalistic approach in nearly all matters, and most should not be surprised to find that they trimmed the excess off.
The weather is mild, warm even, for the time of the year, so the festivities are held in open pavilions on the Kuchiki grounds, right by the cherry trees in full bloom. From his perch at the table, Byakuya has to admit he couldn‘t have picked a better backdrop himself.
He’s married.
Byakuya expected it to be a more profound realisation. He doesn’t feel much different at all.
After the meal comes mingling, a fact that is inescapable when you’re a groom in a wedding. Many shades of well-wishes come Byakuya’s way. A good portion of guests are trying to insert themselves into the good graces of a future clan leader. Others are attempting to find out if they need to be concerned with the Shiba and Kuchiki clan grabbing for power by joining forces. There’s some who sing the praises of the Shiba as a hard-working, dedicated clan and others calling them unrefined and simple, suggesting that Byakuya is slumming it.
The underhanded insults irk Byakuya, and less so because of himself. Whatever he might think of the situation, he’s never heard of a Shiba that wasn’t hard-working. If nothing else, all the time spent in the archive over documents of the Great Noble Clans, he learned that the Shiba were probably the least scheming, most honest of the Great Five. Byakuya despises historical inaccuracies.
“Byakuya-bo!” he hears and is, once again, irritated.
“Will you stop calling me that?” he hisses and attempts to escape a fierce hug from Yoruichi.
“I suppose now that you’re a married man, you might have outgrown it,” she says but it’s with a grin that communicates quite clearly she’s not stopping. Blasted woman.
“Congratulations, Kuchiki-san,” chirps Urahara Kisuke, who’s accompanying Yoruichi, from behind his fringe.
Byakuya should feel insulted by the lax form of address, though more importantly, he should be grateful the man has at least better manners than his partner.
“Your husband,” Yoruichi says and of course she’d emphasise the word, “is looking very handsome today.”
Byakuya glances over to where Kaien is being interrogated by two Kuchiki elders, bowing a little every time he nods and smiles along to what they’re saying. He looks much the same as always, with his hair ruffled and windswept. The clothes are nicer than the shihakushō he wears when he’s with the Gotei, but what isn’t. Gotei’s garment choices leave much to be desired. Kaien’s kimono is a light blue, embroidered with subtle water motifs save for numerous eye-catching turtles. It does suit him rather well, Byakuya will admit. The colour is close to that of his eyes. Regarding him in an objective manner, one could probably make a case for him looking good.
“He looks the same as always,” Byakuya says, deflecting.
“Oh, so he’s always handsome?” Yoruichi shows her teeth when she grins at him.
Deep breath. “Be grateful I can’t go after you.”
“You have yet to catch me, Byakuya-bo,” she chirps and walks off, Urahara in tow.
“Demon cat,” Byakuya grouses.
“I always thought she’s fun,” Kaien suddenly says right next to him and Byakuya flinches without meaning to.
“Of course you would,” Byakuya says because he can see how these two would get along.
Surprisingly, Kaien only snorts, despite Byakuya’s tone not being that of a joke.
“She beat me up in training a couple times when I was a new recruit,” he explains. “Ukitake-taichō thought it would help me unlock my potential.”
“And did it?” Byakuya asks, surprised at himself for keeping the conversation going.
“I unlocked shikai after she nearly skewered me, so I guess it did,” he says and grins sheepishly.
Byakuya makes an assenting noise, wishing once again that he’d finally manage shikai himself. Ukitake-taichō was growing increasingly more cheerful about Byakuya’s progress, which worries Byakuya more than it motivates him. He knows he is slow with it and it irks him more than he could possibly say. He’s received praise for his vast amount of detectable reiatsu, his kidou is exceeding expectations far and wide, and his technique with the zanpakutō is ‘remarkable’. But his blade has yet to speak to him.
“Well, she is a captain,” Byakuya concedes. “Even if she is insufferable.”
The answering chuckle from Kaien gives Byakuya a small prick of pride.
It’s not that he’s forgotten about it. Not precisely. Byakuya just pushed the matter to the fringes of his mind long ago and he did not think about it further. Though perhaps, he should have. Despite not being fully attuned to awkward social situations, because they don’t tend to happen to him, he is aware that this is indeed an awkward situation.
When it was deemed acceptable for Byakuya to leave the festivities, an attendant helped him with his bath and to exchange the festive kimono for a simple yukata to sleep in. Byakuya allowed himself to forget about the day’s events for the duration of his nightly routine. Having to speak to so many people in one day was draining, and all he wanted was to read for half an hour and then sleep before he’d have to deal with the inevitable reality of navigating a marriage.
Except that the reality appears to have been scheduled for right now, because Byakuya’s room and bed are not empty.
Kaien is sitting on the futon in a navy blue yukata and is leafing through the pages of the very book Byakuya has been looking forward to. The muted glow from the lanterns bathes Kaien in a soft, orange light, which should be at odds with his boisterous image. Instead, it makes his features look soft and calm, despite the unfamiliar surroundings. He looks up when Byakuya enters, and smiles, equal parts worried and awkward.
“Hey,” he says. And then, because Byakuya has no doubt the indifference has slipped from his face, Kaien continues: “I asked them to bring me to my rooms, but they wouldn’t hear of it.”
Kaien would have his own rooms while they lived at the Kuchiki estate. They were adjacent to Byakuya’s and had been renovated in the last few months. Of course though, they’d be expected to spend the night together today.
“I’d try to creep over there but I’m pretty sure I’d be seen,” he adds. “There’s a lot of people still milling around.”
There were indeed more servants, both Kuchiki and Shiba going about their business in this part of the house. Byakuya noticed it on the way from the bath, but put it down to the celebrations.
“They’re spying,” Byakuya finally says as he puts two and two together.
“Probably,” Kaien concedes with a dissatisfied twist of his mouth. “My clan definitely is.”
Byakuya huffs and turns himself to the tea tray resting on a low table nearby to have something to do that isn’t standing around. There are two cups on it instead of the usual single earthenware piece. He pours the tea into one of them, the grassy, toasted smell of his favourite genmaicha hitting his nose. After a moment of hesitation, he pours a second cup. He was raised with some manners.
“Thank you,” Kaien says and accepts the steaming cup from Byakuya’s hand.
“Why are you so sure your clan is spying?” Byakuya asks.
“They’ve got good reason to,” Kaien says and shrugs while he takes a sip. “One side wants to make sure the marriage is secure and airtight to protect my line’s claim to leadership, and the other wants nothing more than to find out it isn’t secure so they can contest it. I’m betting there’s ears for both creeping around outside.”
Byakuya makes a derisive sound, but he doesn’t doubt that it might well be true. His own family may have some of the servants listening, but the Shiba had a stronger investment in the consummation of the marriage. As a noble, one is used to the idea of being seen and listened to most of the time. There’s little privacy in a house full of staff, even if they do their best to go unseen and unheard unless they’re attending you directly. Being listened to with intent, however, is another matter.
“Vultures,” Byakuya mutters.
“Look, we don’t have to do anything,” Kaien says. “The walls may be thin, but they can’t look in. There won’t be any proof. I'll sleep here tonight and we hope that’ll do it.”
“Isn’t that risky?” Byakuya wonders. Kaien had been willing to marry whoever the Kuchiki elders suggested to protect his siblings and his own life.
“What’s a good solution here?” Kaien asks with another shrug. “Sure, it’s a little embarrassing, but if you’re willing, we could just make some of the appropriate noise, move around, that sort of thing. I don’t imagine they’ll check the sheets in the morning or inspect the waste basket.”
“That’s worse than having actual sex,” Byakuya replies and wrinkles his nose. He can’t imagine himself performing some audio spectacle, least of all in front of someone else.
“Really?” Kaien looks surprised, eyebrows having all but disappeared under his fringe. “I’d have thought you’d consider sleeping with someone you find repulsive a lot more bothersome than making some awkward noise.”
“When have I said you were repulsive?”
Which is a useless question, because it’s not the point. Nevertheless, Kaien is not repulsive. Byakuya has many unkind thoughts on the entire mess that is this engagement, wedding, and marriage, but none of them concern a lack of attractiveness on Kaien’s part. It’s the irritating personality that has always ticked Byakuya off. Kaien is, to use Yoruichi’s words, handsome – in a rugged, mischievous way. Not that he would admit it where she could hear him.
“Thanks, I guess?” Kaien says, not sure how to take Byakuya’s words.
“The safest bet for both of us is to go through with it,” Byakuya admits. “My clan may have the upper hand, but they’re nervous about my leadership. I’m lacking experience, and I’m the only heir of the main family branch. Both of my parents passed from illness, and I’m due to enter the Gotei. They’re worried I’m going to die young, whether that’s from illness or because I ran afoul of a Hollow one day.”
Byakuya is surprised at both his practicality and his willingness to divulge this information to an outsider. Or someone who was, until a few hours ago, an outsider. One that will understand the situation better than most, having been maneuvered around for his clan’s benefit himself. There is an inherent air of trustworthiness to Kaien, which is stupid to take for granted, but if nothing else, Byakuya knows that Ukitake-taichō places his trust in Kaien, one-hundred percent with no questions asked. And Byakuya trusts Ukitake-taichō’s judgement.
“Why is nobility such a pain in the neck?” Kaien asks with a groan and Byakuya can’t help but huff in amusement.
A pain in the neck indeed.
“I don’t like it,” Kaien adds after taking a sip from his cup. “It’s messed up that we seriously have to entertain sleeping together for a marriage neither of us asked for in the first place.”
“You did ask for it.”
“You know what I mean,” Kaien retorts and Byakuya keeps back a reply because he does know. Kaien hadn’t expected this outcome any more than Byakuya.
“I suppose the clans consider this teaching us a lesson,” Byakuya says instead, draining the last of his tea. “Perhaps a lesson to me more than you.”
Byakuya ruminates in silence over the matter for some minutes, while they’re sipping more tea. He doesn’t relish the idea of being a mere prop to his family’s whims, but there is merit in picking your battles. Back at his parents’ graves, he’d promised to do his duty, and his duty was marrying the heir of the Shiba clan. Isn’t this night part of that particular duty as well? He’d have more freedom to make decisions once the wedding is squared away with no lingering doubts.
“We could just look at it as a night of harmless fun, no more than if you picked up a stranger at an izakaya or a party,” Byakuya suggests and moves back to the table to refill his own cup. Perhaps this didn’t have to be a chore, if he looked at it differently.
“Just that at an izakaya or party, we could choose if we wanted to take that person home,” Kaien interjects, frowning.
“Forget the context,” Byakuya says, turning the idea over in his head and deciding it makes sense. “Would you pick me up at a party if I were a stranger and you were looking to find someone?”
“Hard to say,” Kaien hums. “You’re certainly pretty enough for me to be interested. But I already know what you’re like under the pretty face.” He closes the statement with a slight smirk.
“Oh that’s rich, coming from you,” Byakuya scoffs.
“What?” Kaien exclaims. “I’m perfectly pleasant.”
“You’re irritating and loud.”
“Sorry I’m not as posh as you,” Kaien grumbles into his cup.
Byakuya sighs. He’s not doing a good job of convincing Kaien by insulting him. “If it helps: if I weren’t already aware of your irritating nature, I could possibly be interested. In a context where we didn’t know each other.”
“You think I’m pretty?” Kaien asks and can’t quite hide a teasing grin.
“Not the word I’d use.”
“What would you use?” Kaien fishes for an answer.
Byakuya is keenly aware he’s not going to get out of this without an answer. At least he’s not sitting on the futon anymore. Standing by the table makes this somehow less embarrassing.
“Yoruichi calls you handsome,” he finally says and is sure that he’s making a face.
“Yoruichi, huh?” Kaien asks and nods. “And you agree?”
Forget handsome. An irksome creature is what he is.
“I don’t disagree,” he finally admits, and it cost him to say it.
Kaien snorts. “I’d love to see you try to pick someone up with that kind of flattery at a bar.”
“I don’t go to bars,” Byakuya says in a haughty tone.
“Fine, wherever you go to pick up someone,” Kaien replies and cocks his head. “A stable.”
Byakuya shoots him a dirty look, but the gleam in Kaien’s eyes doesn’t falter.
“Too soon?” he asks, but it’s obvious he’s trying to tease Byakuya.
“Anyway,” Byakuya sighs. “Back to the original point of the matter.”
“Role-playing strangers?”
“I didn’t suggest role-playing,” Byakuya grouses, but he sees Kaien’s lips quirk and knows it was a joke.
“I see your point, I guess,” Kaien says. “Two guys having a night together doesn’t have to be complicated if you can put everything else aside.”
“We can go our own ways after that,” Byakuya adds and drains his second cup of tea.
“More or less,” Kaien agrees. “I still say there’s merit in getting along.”
“Whatever for?”
“We could train,” Kaien suggests. “Maybe I can beat that shikai out of you.”
Kaien looks more confident when he’s talking about training and shikai, his eyes more alert and the tension lines on his forehead soften.
“You wish you were that skilled,” Byakuya drawls.
“Big words to throw around when faced with a vice-captain,” Kaien retorts and puts his now empty cup next to him on the tatami, leaning back into a more relaxed posture on the futon.
“Modesty is for the unskilled.”
That gets a laugh out of Kaien. “You’re a menace, Kuchiki.”
Byakuya rolls his eyes, and begins untying his obi before he reconsiders his stance on the consummation of marriage.
“Whoa,” Kaien interjects and Byakuya stills his hands. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing this right.”
He puts his cup to the side and unfurls from his cross-legged seat on the futon. They’re almost the same height, though Byakuya’s build is still a little slighter than Kaien’s. This is the closest Byakuya’s ever been to Kaien, and he takes in the smell of fresh soap, the minerals from the Kuchiki hot springs, and the whiff of sandalwood coming from his yukata.
“When I take a guy home, I want to undress him” Kaien says and removes Byakuya’s hand from the obi to replace them with his own.
Byakuya can feel the heat of Kaien’s fingers seep through his light yukata where they rest against his abdomen.
“Based on the location, I’d say it’s me who’s taken you home,” Byakuya replies because he needs to have the last word.
Kaien rolls his eyes. “You can undress me, too.”
There’s a part of Byakuya that wants to refuse just to be spiteful, but this was his idea in the first place. And he will not be outdone by a Shiba. With a few movements of his hands, Kaien’s yukata is falling open, revealing more of his smooth, pale chest. Kaien shrugs the garment off his shoulders, leaving it to pool around his ankles.
It’s not a hardship to look at Kaien, Byakuya will admit. Looking at his partner is not a luxury Byakuya usually has had. Everything he’s done up to his point has been clandestine, hidden, and hurried for fear of being discovered. And then he’d been discovered anyway. He’s never even done this in his bedroom. There’s something pleasant about knowing he can take his time.
Byakuya’s yukata falls open and before he can consider feeling exposed because he prefers not to wear undergarments at night, Kaien frames Byakuya’s jaw with his hands and pulls him into a kiss. Byakuya, unprepared for it, makes a sound of surprise and Kaien moves back.
“I plan for my mouth to be in a lot of places, your face included,” Kaien says with a frown, his hands still warm on the sides of Byakyua’s jaw. “But you can change your mind, you know?”
Byakuya can feel the heat rising in his face, knowing it’ll paint the bridge of his nose bright pink. He didn’t expect Kaien to be forward, given how reluctant he’s been until now. But it’s certainly not a bad development.
“I didn’t mean for you to stop,” Byakuya mutters, gingerly placing his hands around Kaien’s forearms.
“Okay,” Kaien says and his frown disappears. “But I mean it anyway. You want to stop, tell me.”
“The same applies to you.” Byakuya feels he needs to add this. He’s not the only one who got roped into the situation.
“I know,” Kaien agrees. “But you’re way more stubborn than I could ever hope to be, so I feel I should remind you.”
Byakuya feels a spark of irritation. “New rule,” he says and places his hands on Kaien’s chest, steering him backwards to the futon. Kaien’s skin is as smooth as it looks, but Byakuya can feel the lean muscle underneath. All the fighting and training pays off for Kaien. “Be quiet.”
Kaien laughs as he lets himself be pushed onto the futon, but it’s more amused than annoyed. Byakuya looks at him, really looks at him from where he’s standing above Kaien, watching him remove his underwear with efficiency. No hardship, indeed. Kaien’s body is all lean muscle, trained for agility and speed instead of the sheer brute force some members of the Gotei favour. Byakuya can feel his heart rate kick up when he lets himself linger on Kaien’s abdomen and cock. Byakuya can see Kaien grow more aroused under his scrutiny, and feels his own cock starting to take interest in what he’s seeing.
Perhaps this wasn’t such a bad idea.
“Lose that damn yukata and get down here,” Kaien says and his voce has grown lower, more rough.
Byakuya doesn’t even contemplate resisting the order, and drops the yukata that’s been dangling from his shoulders before folding himself down onto the futon where Kaien immediately reaches for him.
“No one should be this attractive,” Kaien says while he watches Byakuya pull the hair tie from his ponytail, letting the strands fall down his back and spill over his shoulders, still a little damp from the bath.
Kaien’s clear blue eyes have grown more intense, to a sharp iciness that surely, Byakuya shouldn’t find this enticing. It’s giving Byakuya a hint of what it might be like to see Kaien in a fight, jovial manner stripped away and replaced by a near unsettling focus and determination. Kaien’s hands make their way into Byakuya’s hair, combing through it with no small amount of fascination. He pulls a litte, just to test the waters, and Byakuya clamps down on an undignified sound that’s clawing its way up his throat. Byakuya is not about to divulge this particular weakness to Kaien, but it goes straight to his groin, bringing him closer to a full erection. Kaien unfortunately notices, and a smirk flickers across his face.
“That could prove interesting,” Kaien murmurs, his hands trailing over Byakuya’s chest and abdomen, leaving behind a tingling sensation that makes Byakuya shudder a little.
“Didn’t I say be quiet?” Byakuya asks, but his voice holds no admonishment.
“Yeah,” Kaien says and presses his left hand into Byakuya’s right shoulder, willing him to lie back on the futon. “And I’ve chosen to ignore it.”
“You’re insufferable,” Byakuya groans, but he does as requested and drops back onto the mattress.
“Give it time,” Kaien says with a quick grin, moving over Byakuya and caging him with his arms, their faces not even an inch apart.
Byakuya feels an urge to capture Kaien’s lips in a kiss while his pulse thunders in his ears, but as soon as he twitches to make the move, Kaien slides further down, his lips ghosting over Byakuya’s skin as he speaks: “You might grow to like it.”
Byakuya is about to return the teasing comment with a scathing statement of his own, when suddenly, his cock is engulfed by the hot, wet heat of Kaien’s mouth and all of Byakuya’s thoughts scatter like cherry blossom petals in a strong gust of wind.
It does keep Kaien from talking, not that Byakuya is all there to notice.
Byakuya wakes the next morning aching all over, though it is far from the way he aches when he’s been pushing himself in training too much. It’s a deep ache that sends a pleasant wave of gooseflesh over his back and arms and Byakuya rolls over on his other side to see the other half of the futon empty, but the sliding door to one of the inner courtyard has been opened a handspan, letting the bright spring sun and a cool breeze inside.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” comes a familiar voice from the other corner of his room. “You’re missing breakfast.”
Kaien is seated at the low table, a bowl of something steaming in one hand, chopsticks in the other. He looks far too energetic for an early morning, but Byakuya has slept in more than he would normally allow himself, guessing by the way the sun sits on the horizon.
“We’re allowed breakfast in the bedroom today,” Kaien chatters between sips of what seems to be miso soup. “I think they gathered we had a busy night.”
Byakuya wills the blush to stop appearing on his face and grabs his yukata from the end of the futon where he discarded it last evening. A busy night is how one could put it. He waits for any sort of regret to appear, but it doesn’t. Once he stopped thinking about the circumstances that brought Kaien into his bed, Byakuya enjoyed himself. He’ll be littered with a garden variety of bruises for the next few days, but one good look at the hollow of Kaien’s throat tells him that he won’t be the only one. And, in addition to the pleasure of seeing that he gave as good as he got, what could be better for their clans than visible proof they’d spent the night together?
“You okay?” Kaien asks with a serious tone.
“I am,” Byakuya replies and finds that he means it.
“Good,” Kaien says with a relieved expression and begins pouring tea for Byakuya.
“Are you?” Byakuya asks in return and begins combing out his hair before he thinks better of it. He’s going to need a bath after last night anyway.
Kaien’s mouth quirks in a smile that says he’s reminiscing about last night. “More than,” he finally says and puts down the empty soup bowl, moving on to the rice.
In retrospect, Byakuya can’t quite say what compelled him to this action, but instead of sitting down at the table, he opens one of the sliding doors to a cupboard and grabs a thin, neatly wrapped package from the top shelf where it has been sitting for a few weeks. He thought he’d decided not to do this, but now he’s kneeling at the table, sliding it over to Kaien’s side, who regards the package with curiosity.
“What’s that?”
“Unwrap it and find out,” Byakuya says, feigning nonchalance, and busies himself with his own bowl of miso soup.
Kaien carefully takes apart the mizuhiki around the folded envelope, and Byakuya’s stomach swoops as he watches Kaien pull Sōjun’s bookmark from the wrapping. Byakuya had put it in the envelope, carefully bound the cords and then put it back in the cupboard with the intention of not giving it away.
“It was my father’s,” Byakuya explains and looks at the bookmark instead of the soft expression on Kaien’s face. “He told me to pass it on when I get married. For good luck.”
“Even under circumstances like this?”
Kaien traces the edges of the bookmark gently, like it’s precious and fragile. The kindness in his eyes continues to make Byakuya uncomfortable.
“He did not specify,” Byakuya replies, deflecting.
“I don’t have anything for you,” Kaien says and sounds as embarrassed as he suddenly looks. “Your matchmaker told my family you’d asked for no gifts.”
Byakuya had. And now he’s broken his own rule.
“You can return the favour by sparring with me later tonight,” he suggests and Kaien’s face brightens.
It appears to be a day for backtracking his own statements. Despite his usual disdain for changing opinions every other minute, Byakuya doesn’t mind this instance as much as he thought he would.
“I hope you’re prepared to eat dirt, Kuchiki,” Kaien says, mischief back in full on his face as he carefully tucks the bookmark inside his yukata.
“We shall see,” Byakuya replies and lets a challenging smile appear on his own lips.
Perhaps, he could get used to Shiba Kaien after all.