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Hazy sunlight filtered in from the hotel big window. Traffic noises vibrated below, the hustle and bustle of the city in full swing.
Renji leaned back against the couch and watched as Byakuya and Rukia chatted. Left over breakfast dishes cluttered the glass table in front of them and Renji's fingers itched to finish tidying up. But Byakuya'd made it clear he should leave it for later so, instead, he stretched his long legs out under the table and tried to look engaged.
Byakuya was dressed in street clothes, managing to look posh and effortlessly stylish. In comparison, Renji felt like some kind of metal-head, roughneck beside him, in a ripped shirt and bondage gear. Rukia wore a school-girlish white jumper with a short sleeved red shirt underneath. A little strawberry dangled at the end of her necklace.
Wonder who’d given that to her? As if Renji didn’t know. Mr. I-Love-Homonyms-of-My-Name. Renji was kind of surprised there wasn’t a fifteen etched into the strawberry somewhere, too. Maybe there was, and it was just too small for Renji to see it.
But, Renji shouldn’t be jealous. His lover had given him jewelry, too. He just didn’t like it.
A strawberry was a sweet little thing—friendly, cute, and bright red. Rukia’s necklace glittered, like the seeds were made of some kind of shiny glass beads. Why couldn’t Byakuya have commissioned something with a camellia? Instead, he got a shard of the kenseikan, broken in a violent, bloody battle. The kenseikan was anything but cute. It was sharper than steel, the very symbol of ‘power over,’ and forged from a still living Hollow and white jade. It was horrifying if you thought about it too much. And Byakuya wanted Renji to wear it around his neck like a collar.
Deep inside, Zabimaru hissed.
Renji let out a sigh. He should try to relax; he’d been feeling bent out of shape since their little exhibition game got interrupted. He realized he was probably just sexually frustrated--after all, everything was either pissing him off or turning him on.
Like, Byakuya—if Renji didn’t know that Byakuya definitely wasn’t into getting down and dirty in front of his sister, Renji would be all over that. Byakuya’s nearness was driving Renji crazy. He was close enough to smell, and completely tolerated Renji’s arm casually draped behind his back along the couch cushions. In fact, Byakuya actually, almost imperceptibly, leaned into Renji’s body, his shoulder tucking up under Renji’s.
The other thing that was too sexy for words was that Byakuya sat cross-legged, like a commoner.
Renji was fairly certain he could count the number of times Byakuya’d sat like this. Renji remembered at least one really clearly: that first morning after, when Byakuya’d had a hangover. Renji’d never seen his captain like that, so…imprecise. Messy was hot on Byakuya, the simplest thing could make him seem wanton. Even now, the casual splay of Byakuya’s legs in those form-fitting jeans kept drawing Renji’s attention away from the conversation.
Not that he felt terribly included, anyway.
Byakuya and Rukia had fallen into gossiping about family. Renji’d paid some attention when they discussed the fact that aunt Masama was apparently still living at the estate causing no end of hassle. However, he’d given up trying to follow along sometime after cousins started getting ‘removed’ more than once.
Instead of listening, Renji stared at Byakuya’s lips, watching them form words, and thinking about how awesome it was kissing them, and how the two of them should find a way to do that more often. What would be great? A long make-out session with no other agenda. Could he talk Byakuya into it? Maybe he could offer a trade in something super kinky. Renji was just wondering what he’d be willing to do, when he realized Byakuya had just turned and addressed him. “Huh? Uh, what?”
Byakuya frowned curiously, but repeated himself without a fuss. “I was saying, I thought you might like to know that I’ve written to my cousin, the one Miisho is meant to be marrying. I’m curious why she’s willing settle so low and whether I can offer something comparable.”
What was comparable to marriage? Renji wondered.
“Do I know your Third? Is he noble?” Rukia asked. She sat opposite them, and had her arms wrapped around her upraised knees. Her tone scandalized, she added, “Hiroko wouldn’t really marry a commoner, would she?”
Now Renji remembered the other reason he’d tuned out. It was weird to hear Rukia nattering on like this, like she was actually horrified to imagine some guy from the Rukongai hooking up with a Kuchiki. And, Miisho weren’t no commoner neither; Renji knew that for a damn fact. He grunted, “Maybe they’re in love.”
Byakuya nodded. “It’s possible, which, in a roundabout way, is what I asked her. Though, given that theirs was a match arranged by Aunt Massey, I have my doubts. Usually our dear aunt cares very little for anything more that political alliances. I suppose that’s why this pairing strikes me as so odd. My cousin will lose the Kuchiki name and we gain nothing at all. Miisho’s not even in line to inherit his family’s meager holdings and is my subordinate… not even well placed in another Division.”
Shifting to reach for a bit of cold, leftover breakfast fish, Renji stuffed it in his mouth. “Maybe it’s the girl that gets something, like away from her family. Maybe she wants more outta life than being a political pawn in some stupid game of blood and breeding.”
Renji didn’t realize how that might’ve sound until Rukia’s mouth made a little ‘o.’ Rukia turned to look to see how Byakuya would react, but Byakuya didn’t even blink. “Yes, that’s what I thought,” Byakuya said, taking another sip of the tea. “I wonder, in fact, if what she wants is to be a soldier. If given no other option, I thought perhaps she might willingly choose to be a soldier’s wife in order to be closer to the life, to someone who might understand a desire to attend Academy, to live the life of the sword.”
“That’s kind of a stretch,” Renji said, stuffing the last of the fish in his mouth. He wiped his fingers on his shirt as he settled back. “But I could see it, you know, if you don’t got no other options. But, that’s the thing, isn’t it? Kuchiki don’t usually lack for opportunity. Why wouldn’t your cousin just go to Academy if she wanted?”
Byakuya tipped his head back so it rested on Renji’s outstretched arm and held the tea close to his chest. The other hand reached out to absently rest against Renji’s thigh, casually intimate. “She may be more constrained than you imagine, Renji.” He turned to glance up at Renji, their faces close. “There are very few Kuchiki left who bear the Kuchiki name. There’s myself, Rukia, this cousin Hiroko, and a smattering more--most of them women, who will be expected to trade their name in for an alliance with man they may never love. I suspect that Aunt Masama had to go to some lengths to break a previous contract, something arranged at birth. Though, I never heard anything of it… no complaints came to me as clan head, which makes it all the more strange….” Byakuya let out a sigh.
“Is it possible Hiroko had no previous arrangement?” Rukia wondered, her eyes flicking from Byakuya’s hand to Renji’s face, as though she was more startled by this little touch than the earlier scene she’d stumbled into.
Byakuya pulled his head up and considered. “Like you, Hiroko may have been adopted,” Byakuya said. “Or, I suppose she may have been sired by a Kuchiki but born to someone other than his legal wife.”
“A bastard?” Renji repeated. “Wow, would your family really give a child your name in a situation like that?”
“Sometimes. There’s certainly plenty of precedent, and as I said, we’re somewhat desperate for Kuchiki,” Byakuya said. “I must admit I had not realized the extent to which that was true until I began my search for a candidate to replace me as clan head. I see now why my clan tolerates so much of my misbehavior.”
Renji snorted. “Yeah, you’re such a bad boy. I dunno how they can stand you.”
Byakuya chuckled and leaned in to nibble at Renji’s ear. “You of all people can hardly deny I have a wicked streak.”
“Heh, there is that,” Renji smiled wolfishly. Turning to move in for a kiss, he stopped short when Rukia cleared her throat.
Even though Renji stopped, Byakuya did not. He swiftly nabbed Renji’s lips with his and kissed Renji long and languidly. Renji's eyes were open and staring at Rukia, his blush matching hers, and Renji started backing out of the kiss for her sake. Byakuya’s hand squeezed Renji’s thigh almost admonishingly, reminding Renji to at least participate a little at the end of the kiss.
When they finally came apart, Byakuya’s hand left Renji’s thigh to stroke the space between Renji’s eyebrows. “Rukia doesn’t mean to, but, with her little noises, she reminds me of how things were with Hisana. You should never feel you can’t kiss me in front of my family, Renji.”
Sure, Byakuya could say that here in the Human World, with Rukia their only witness. Renji’d love to see his reaction if Renji grabbed the back of Byakuya’s neck and planted a big wet one on him at some court function or other.
“Oh! I’m so sorry, nii-sama! I never meant to make you feel like that,” Rukia said, but Byakuya waved her off without even looking at her. “I was just….”
“It will take some getting used to, I understand,” Byakuya said to her, though his eyes never left Renji’s face. Fingers smoothed at the space between Renji’s eyes, where Renji hadn’t realized he’d been frowning. “You’ve been upset about something this whole time, Renji. What is it?”
What could he say?
Why don’t you buy me flowers instead making me wear a piece of your family’s crown?
Nah, he was being stupid. Look at how Byakuya was watching his face, so concerned. Renji smoothed back a lock of Byakuya’s hair. He mustered up a smile and insisted, “I’m okay. Don’tcha worry about me.”
Byakuya nodded, but he didn’t seem convinced. He patted Renji’s thigh as though to say that they’d talk later.
Tipping the paper cup all the way back, Byakuya sucked down the last of the tea before setting it back on the cluttered table. “I’m more convinced than ever that Hiroko may be the product of an affair. The lack of fuss about a broken contract, and the fact that our aunt, the foolish woman, would have much less trouble throwing away someone she’d consider tainted by Rukon blood… Plus, if she is seeking a zanpakutō, it’s that much more likely if--”
The way Byakuya stopped himself from finishing his thought seemed almost… guilty.
Renji poked Byakuya’s shoulder, “Likely if, what?”
Byakuya lips pressed together as though considering something for a moment. His gaze dropped to the table and his face became more unreadable than usual. Finally, he said evenly, “It would be more likely for her to be a shinigami if she has Rukongai blood.”
Huh? Renji exchanged a look with Rukia, who shrugged, clearly equally confused. In fact, Rukia was the one who asked what Renji was wondering, “Why would her parentage make any difference, nii-sama? Isn’t she just as likely being a full Kuchiki? Maybe more?”
“No, certainly not more,” Byakuya’s brows knit together. He glanced each of them in turn, his gaze very solemn. “You may not repeat what I’m about to tell you”
Renji exchanged another curious glance with Rukia, but they both nodded in unison.
“Even in the four great noble families, who are born with spiritual energy that far surpasses all others in the Seireitei, only one in several generations will ever attain bankai. Have you never considered why? Have you never done a tally of how many captain-level shinigami come from the Rukongai?”
Renji hadn’t, but he started to now. Kenpachi, of course. Hitsugaya, for sure. Who else? The head captain…? Yeah, maybe, but was there even a Seireitei back then? Hmm, going down the numbers: Ichimaru had been from far, far out. Renji had no idea where Unohana had come from, but maybe. Aizen… not clear. Komamura… the guy had a classy name, but with that foxy-face, he kind of had to have been from outside the walls, right? Tōsen, yes. Gods only knew what hell Kurotsuchi had crawled out from under, but no one ever talked about him like he was any kind of noble, except that clone daughter of his.
Renji was just starting to count them out on his fingers, when Rukia supplied: “At least half, as many as eight.”
“And you forget Renji,” Byakuya said to her, “And, Third Seat Madarame.”
Renji started at how casually Byakuya mentioned Ikkaku’s bankai, “Uh, you know that Ikkuku’s thing is supposed to be a secret, right, Taicho?”
“The Twelfth caught Madarame’s performance on film,” Byakuya explained. “Zaraki seemed already aware, regardless.”
“Oh,” Renji said. It seemed Ikkaku’s bankai was about as well-kept a secret as his own. “Anyway, what are you trying to say? ‘Cuz us Rukongai rats sort of dominate the lieutenants’ ranks, too.”
“You dominate all the ranks,” Byakuya said with a little lift of his chin. “That is, in fact, my point.”
Renji still wasn’t getting it, but it seemed Rukia did. “But, how can it be, nii-sama? How can the souls from the Rukongai be stronger? Shouldn’t pure souls have the advantage?”
Then, it hit Renji, right between the eyes. Did Rukia just say stronger? “Oi, hold the phone! You’re saying, what?” Renji glanced at Byakuya sharply, “Ain’t the difference between us supposed to be ‘class’? I feel like I endured a whole lecture about the superiority of your soul, and how I was just some monkey reaching for the moon.”
“Nii-sama,” Rukia hissed in shock. “You didn’t really say that, did you?”
“Regrettably, I did,” Byakuya admitted.
At some point, unthinkingly, Renji had pulled his arm from behind Byakuya. Now both were crossed in front of his chest. He scowled at his lap for a long moment before glancing over at Byakuya.
Byakuya’s eyes were averted and there was a hint of color in his cheeks. “I said many things during that fight that I now regret with my whole heart. Had those been my final words to you, Renji, I don’t know how I would have lived with myself,” Byakuya said quietly. “To be perfectly honest, I’d steeled myself to kill you and watch Rukia die. Because I thought it was my duty, what I had to do in order to uphold the law. I was also ashamed for not having noticed your advancement, and perhaps… angry at you for not staying safe in the guardhouse and for your constant… willfulness. Besides, as I said, bankai is something the four noble houses struggle to achieve, and you remember how much, at the time, I disliked your relationship with Zabimaru.”
He wasn’t kidding there. The alley had been partly about Zabimaru. Renji would never forget the horrible sensation of having been cut off from Zabimaru even for a few minutes. Cold sweat pricked at him with the memory.
Magic like that shouldn’t exist. It horrified Renji that Byakuya not only had known it, but was willing to use it.
Shhhh, Zabimaru hissed comfortingly
But the other voice snarled angrily, No, we should be agitated. We smell this crime around us all the time, but refuse to acknowledge it.
What the hell are you talking about? Renji asked Zabimaru. What crime?
Ask him, the baboon king growled. Ask him where our strength comes from and why they fear us so.
Renji took in a steadying breath, aware that both Byakuya and Rukia were waiting on him to say something, to accept Byakuya’s apology. Renji glanced at Rukia and, took a moment to consciously unwind his body, as he said, “Uh, yeah, you know, that was a tough time on all of us. I’ve got a few regrets, too.”
Zabimaru grumbled.
Just be patient, will ya?
A rattling hiss stuttered through Renji’s back brain.
“So, uh, this is all kind of a shocker, huh?” Renji said, finally giving in to the impulse to tidy up the dishes again. With Zabimaru jittering around inside him, Renji couldn’t sit still any longer, “I mean, if it’s true and all. But, like Rukia, I’m curious why… you know, how come? Why would poor, ragged, half-starved souls be stronger than comfy, well-fed, purebred ones?”
Byakuya seemed decidedly uncomfortable. He didn’t even protest as Renji stood up and took a few of the dishes over to the cart. “You haven’t guessed?”
Just to be mean, Renji snipped, “Poverty builds character?”
“Renji!” Rukia admonished.
Byakuya let out a little sigh. Standing up, he gathered up the remaining dishes and came over to where Renji stood by the cart. Placing them on top of the others, he said, “It’s all right. I suspect you may well be angry with me, too, Rukia. I knew this in theory my whole life, but I never understood what it meant until recently.” Byakuya caught Renji’s gaze and held it. Calmly, he explained. “The power difference is this: pure souls are at a disadvantage because our souls must imbue the asauchi with our own reiatsu, in effect separate ourselves. Rukongai souls are already shattered; their zanpakutō are merely awaiting a reunion.”
“Shattered?” Renji repeated. It was like he’d always feared; he’d ended up in Inuzuri because he was broken somehow.
Once, Zabimaru hissed, but no more.
Now we are three times the stronger for it, The baboon king rumbled, That is their fear.
No, the snake tail argued, they fear us because they see the source of our strength in our Baboon Bone Canon, in the sound of our screams, and in the very shape of us.
“Holy fuck,” Renji said with a sudden, bone-chilling realization, “Shattered. We’re part Hollow, ain’t we? All of us… the ones from the Rukongai.”
Rukia’s eyes went wide.
Renji was still thinking out loud, “Because we don’t destroy Hollows, zanpakutō just break up their forms, send them back into the cycle, like we do with Pluses. So you’re saying some go to Hueco Mundo, but some… go to the Rukongai and are reborn as….”
A zanpakutō is born the same moment as a shinigami, Zabimaru reminded Renji.
“…me?” Renji finished. “Me and Zabimaru?”
“Yes, and all the others. Ukitake and Kyōraku implied as much. Our aunt seemed to intimate that she had a soul record to prove it, too,” Byakuya said. He reached out and took Renji’s hand, where he gripped the cart with whitening knuckles. “It was a shock to me, as well.”
Renji was stunned. Though, the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Zabimaru’s bankai couldn’t look more like a Hollow. They had no hole anywhere, but—
That’s because we’re complete, Zabimaru said. No part is missing.
Apparently taking all this in stride, Rukia nodded, “Reincarnation breaks the soul bond. Is that why some Pluses go Hollow so quickly? They’ve gotten so worn out that they can’t stand to leave any more parts behind?”
Byakuya shook his head as though uncertain, “I don’t know. That’s a question your captain would better know the answer to, I’m afraid. My experience with the Human World is much more limited.” Byakuya’s hand tightened on Renji’s. “Renji? What are you thinking?”
He was thinking that he kind of hated knowing this, because all his life he’d been able to hold his chin up when people called him names, told him he was lesser, because he never believed it, not even a little.
Sure, it wore at him, until parts were raw and sore, but all that came from the outside.
Now….? He looked down at Byakuya’s pale, fine-boned hand covering his darker, rougher one. Now Renji knew there was something inside him that was broken.
No, Zabimaru reminded him. No longer. Together, we are strong.
But, we’re not like them. Renji said, Not pure.
A quiet clearing of a throat made Renji nearly jump out of his gigai. Somehow, without any of them noticing, Eishirō appeared at the archway. “Pardon my intrusion, my lord, my lady… lieutenant,” he said, his head bowed almost to his knees. “The meeting with the banker is in an hour, your lordship.”
“Ah, yes,” Byakuya said, looking around as if trying to remember where he was. As though regretfully, he released Renji’s hand. “Let me get the things you’ll need.”
Byakuya disappeared to the bedroom, leaving Eishirō and Renji and Rukia all staring at each other. Except, Eishirō never lifted his head, and Renji found himself hugging his own waist and staring resolutely out the window.
In the thundering awkward of them all trying not to look at each other, Renji smelled something. Like the haunting whiff of incense from a moldering and abandoned shrine, a sinister magic clung to Eishirō. It surrounded him like a fog, as though obscuring his inner light.
The room suddenly felt thick with it as Renji caught an echo of the suffocating smell on Rukia, too.
Yes, Zabimaru growled, you see.
“Oh, holy shit. This is what that purifying ritual does, isn’t it?” Renji said out loud. He pointed at Eishirō, “Urahara said it breaks the bond, just like reincarnation, it weakens the Hollow parts--” His eyes went to Rukia. Oh, fuck. He’d always wondered why she’d been so much stronger than he was when they first started Academy and then seemed to almost… regress.
Byakuya’s family had done it to her. They’d bound up her strength so they wouldn’t have to be scared of how much stronger she could be.
Motherfuckers.
No wonder Byakuya didn’t want Rukia to go off on missions. No wonder he was always trying to hold her back. He knew. On some level he knew what his family had done to her.
It had always bothered Renji, somewhere in the back of his mind. Why had Rukia struggled so much? How could a simple Hollow have gotten the drop on her? How come some ridiculous human kid had had to step in to save an Academy-trained shinigami, a kidō master who Renji had always thought would someday surpass him? No, who had always been stronger than he was….
When they’d fetched Rukia back, Renji told himself that it was all because she’d spent too much time in that stupid gigai, and that being without Sode no Shirayuki for so long had messed with her on some deep level.
But, he should have known that it had happened before that. The damn Kuchikis not only stole Rukia from him, but they’d broken her. He’d have never let her go, if he knew that was going to happen. The only reason Renji’d been able to at all, was because he truly believed they’d take better care of her than he ever could.
Because, they were supposed to be her benefactors--those nobles with all their food and fancy shit.
Motherfuckers.
“It’s a crime all right,” Renji was saying. “This whole fucking thing is a crime.”
“Renji?” Byakuya was in the doorway again. In his hands he clutched some papers that were nearly ripped from his hands by a sudden, howling wind. His hair fluttered, but then his eyes narrowed and Renji could feel the sudden weight of Byakuya’s reiatsu pushing back. The next time Byakuya spoke Renji’s name it was a command. “Renji!”
Renji glared at Byakuya, daring him to do it. Go on, he thought, push me down. That’s what you do…
Then Renji saw the other thing Byakuya had in his hand. The kenseikan shard necklace. What had possessed him to pick that up? It wasn’t the best choice, because suddenly Renji saw the whole thing: that first Kuchiki killing Hollows… was that really the story? Or was it a symbol of a different kind of Hollow repression? Renji’s vision was going red--because, fuck all if that didn’t make a lot more sense.
Before Renji could really take in what he’d been doing, Rukia vaulted over the couch and landed a flying kick to Renji’s jaw.
His reiatsu snapped back as he hit the floor. His hands flailed trying to protect his face from a flurry of Rukia’s punches. Renji cowered away from where she knelt on his chest, her hands a barrage of slaps. “Ow! Rukia, stop it!”
“What’s wrong with you, Renji?” she demanded. Her hands going to her hips as she glared down at him from where she knelt on his chest, “You flattened poor Eishirō! Are you always this out of control?”
“Huh?” Renji blinked, coming back to himself. In his peripheral vision, he saw Byakuya helping Eishirō to his feet and ushering the steward out into another room.
Before Renji could jump up and apologize, Rukia leaned down, pushing her weight into him, and poked his nose, “You know what the purification ritual helps with? Control. Maybe you ought to consider it, you big, stupid baboon, before you break everything with your misguided rage!”
“Misguided?” Renji protested, batting her hand away. “Weren’t you paying attention? This purification rite loosens your soul, makes you weak. On purpose, Rukia. Not because we dirty them, but because they’re scared of us. It’s just a stupid thing to make us feel worthless!”
“You so sure, big guy?” Rukia asked, her face inches from his, her hands on either side of his head. Her eyes bore down on him. “What do Hollows eat?”
Souls.
Rukia saw he knew the answer, so she pulled herself off him in a huff, “That’s right. So, you think I didn’t know what I was getting into? Do you think I’d do something that served no purpose? Something to hurt myself?”
“Are you kidding me?” Renji propped himself up on his elbows to glare at her. “You always put yourself last. If our family hadn’t died, you’d never have become a shinigami. You’d have let us hold you back your whole fucking life.”
Which was why Renji couldn’t, why he’d had to let go.
She frowned at him for a long moment, clearly not able to counter that. Finally, she seemed to decide on a different tact. “But, we hurt them over time, and I couldn’t hurt my family.”
“What about Sode no Shirayuki? Ain’t she important?” Of course, the second Renji said it, he knew he’d made a mistake. She’d been willing to give up her zanpakutō for Ichigo, so he could become the substitute soul reaper.
Rukia looked briefly troubled, but her lip stiffened. “She is. But, Captain Ukitake explained it all. And, he was right! Because how many techniques do I have in shikai? Half a dozen, easily. What have you got? Broken Baboon Fang and maybe one other. Why? Because I took things slowly. Sure, you can say the ritual held me back, but I think it helped me master my zanpakutō properly. I had to work to get her back, and we’re stronger for it.”
Renji did have to admit he’d always wondered how she’d managed so many fancy moves without ever going bankai.
“So what?” Renji said, pulling himself to his feet. Slowly dusting himself off, he made a show of rubbing his jaw. “You think I should do this? Let your stupid, fucked-up family put a collar on my Zabimaru, too? No way, Rukia. No fucking way.”
“Suit yourself,” Rukia said, “But my stupid, fucked-up family will never accept you without it. You know what Byakuya’s giving away for you, and you won’t even do this little thing for him? You’re such a selfish cry baby, Renji. You always were.”
“Oh, now that hurts,” Renji said. “Not everyone is as Little Ms. Perfect as you are, Rukia. I shared food sometimes… just not as often… okay, never until you, all right? There, are you happy?”
“No,” she admitted, “But, I still think you could try thinking of someone besides yourself for once.”
“I am,” Renji snarled, “I’m thinking about Zabimaru! You think they did you a favor breaking your bond with Sode no Shirayuki?”
“No one can break that bond,” Rukia said, her chin out. “Haven’t you heard of the conservation of energy? Energy can neither be created, nor destroyed. So, power left me, but it went to her-- it went to Sode no Shirayuki. That’s where those extra techniques came from.”
Renji just squinted at Rukia, “What the hell are you talking about? Conservation of what?”
“E=mc2, you moron! Do you need me to draw you a picture?”
Now there was a thought. They were certainly getting nowhere going around and around like this. The tension fell from Renji’s shoulders and he nodded, “Would ya? You know it always helps me.”
“Oh… okay. Sure,” Rukia’s anger seemed to instantly evaporate, too, at the thought of the ritual of drawing out pictures for him. She started looking around for something to write with, while Renji grabbed some napkins from the food cart. They settled together under the window, and she started scribbling images of familiar characters, “Okay, here’s how it works….”
#
A half-hour later Renji had his head wrapped around the idea that maybe the purification ritual wouldn’t hurt Zabimaru. “Chappy makes everything seem simpler,” he smiled and patted Rukia’s thigh. “I miss that. I swear I learned everything important from that bunny.”
Rukia frowned as she flipped through her picture notes. “Ichigo mocks my drawings. He thinks they’re stupid.”
“Yeah, well, I bet Ichigo could read when he was a kid,” Renji said. “His brain works on words. Mine doesn’t. I need pictures.”
Rukia smiled at him. “I miss you sometimes.”
“Heh, only sometimes?”
She tapped his nose with her finger, “Most of the time I remember what a pain in the ass you were.”
“Oi, likewise,” Renji said, giving her shoulder a playful nudge.
Rukia looked like she was going to make another joke when her cell phone rang. The way her face lit up at the sound of the voice on the other end, Renji knew who it was. Seemed Ichigo must have come out of hiding. Rukia covered the receiver and smiled at Renji, “He’s downstairs.”
“Yeah, you should go,” Renji said. “Tell him if he wants to play with the big leaguers I’m at the shōten.”
Rukia laughed, but she was already getting up and heading for the door. She turned and gave Renji a wave, her ear pressed to the phone.
He waved back, though she was engrossed in whatever Ichigo was telling her. Arms rested on upraised knees, Renji tipped his head back and rested it against the wall.
“Is it safe for me to come out again?” Byakuya asked from the doorway.
He’d been here the whole time? Renji thought he’d gone with Eishirō. Gods, what had he’d overheard? Cripes, had he called Byakuya’s family fucked-up? “Uh, yeah. Look, I’m sorry about all that… I get kind of… Fuck, I guess I’ve got a few issues.”
Byakuya inclined his head slightly, “You’ve nothing to apologize for, Renji.”
Renji sighed. “Eh, I’ve been in a shit mood all morning, but I shouldn’t have gone all leaky on Eishirō.”
Byakuya leaned a shoulder against the archway, “Leaky?”
“Yeah, you know.”
“I do. Shall we find lunch on our way to the amusement park?”
“Not the museum?”
Byakuya shook his head. “Not today.”
Renji pulled some hair from his face, “I dunno if I’m up for an amusement park.”
“There’s a ferris wheel,” Byakuya said. “I could buy you some cotton candy.”
Renji perked up. “Buy me something cute?”
“Cute?” Byakuya looked baffled momentarily, but nodded. “If you wish.”
“Deal.”