A/N: First time doing a birthday fic! This didn't turn out quite as well as I'd hoped, but I think it's all right...? Let me know!

Disclaimer: Not mine, I'm just tossing pleasant daydreams around.

THE FIRST DAY

"...and I don't know what to get him. I mean, for the guy who has everything, right? What am I supposed to do?" Renji groaned, throwing himself backwards across Ichigo's bed and narrowly missing splitting his head open on the windowsill.

"And you're asking me for advice?" Ichigo snorted, not looking around from his seat at his desk. "The guy hates me, you know that. I don't think any of my suggestions would help."

"You're a human, dumbass. You think differently."

It had been intended as a statement of fact, bordering on a compliment, but the wadded-up ball of paper that bounced off Renji's right ear suggested the comment had not been taken in the spirit it was given.

"If you want someone who thinks differently, go to Urahara," Ichigo snapped. "Or better yet, ask Yoroichi, she's an old friend of his, isn't she?"

"I have asked Yoroichi," Renji hedged, his face burning at the memory. Silk sheets, candles, and body oil had figured rather prominently in the Shihoin princess's suggestions. Obviously she was not taking Senbonzakura into account.... or the potential damage it could inflict on Renji's flesh.

"Look, Renji," eyes narrowing, Ichigo finally swiveled his chair around to face the Shinigami draped over his Quincy-cross comforter, "I'm not the person to ask, okay? I've never been good at picking out gifts, and Byakuya is the definition of hard to shop for. There's always the obvious ideas about cherry blossoms -"

"Rukia gives him a sapling sakura tree every year."

Ichigo waved a hand to acknowledge that and continued, "...and his koi carp -"

"Ukitake gives him koi carp."

"...sake?"

"Kyouraku."

"Figures."

"Aa."

"Oh, hell," Ichigo muttered, throwing up his hands and spinning back to his much-neglected homework, "just... get him a partridge in a pear tree or something and leave me alone, I don't have time for this!"

"Partridge... in a pear tree?"

"It's from a Christmas song. Now get out, I have to have this report done by Tuesday."

It took more effort than it should have to maintain the dignity of his composure. Every morning on January the thirty-first, he was greeted by the servants of the Kuchiki household, bowing and scraping and wishing him well; or moreso than usual, in any case.

It was inevitably followed by Rukia informing him over breakfast that she had acquired a sakura sapling for the manor grounds - which where, thankfully, extensive. Forty years of sakura trees as gifts were taxing the groundskeepers' patience.

Ukitake, generally in the company of his atrociously mannered third-seats, would come by shortly after Byakuya had finished breakfast, bringing along a couple of new koi carp to add to the manor's ponds. They were always lovely, healthy specimens, and highly appreciated, but it was... routine. Expected.

He did not allow the word he was truly feeling - boring - to cross the forefront of his mind. Gifts were to be received graciously and politely, not disparaged simply because they'd become a matter of tradition.

Rolling back the door to the office, he stepped in, breathing the familiar, comforting scent of ink and parchment with the faint undertones of cinnamon - Renji always smelled of cinnamon, somehow - and the always-lingering hint of blood and sweat. This was the routine he appreciated, the normalcy of his day that he craved.

Greeting Renji absently, he moved across the room towards his desk, and was halfway to it when he noticed it.

Sitting on the corner of his desk, the delicate statue caught the beam of dusty sunlight slanting through the window, reflecting spots of many-colored light against the off-white walls.

Walking forward, he knelt slowly beside his desk to examine the delicate artistry. The tiny tree, scarcely taller than his hand, was perfectly detailed in every way, from the ripples in the bark to the miniscule, enameled-green leaves that framed exquisite topaz fruit.

The bark of the tree, from the broad, gnarled roots hidden in the enameled grass at its base, to the end of the smallest twig, was of pure gold. Every leaf was edged with it; the stem of every pear was made of it, and, in the branches at the top of the tree, every feather on the little brown-amber bird that nestled there was outlined with it.

"It's a... uhm, it's a... partridge in a pear tree, sir," Renji's uncharacteristically quiet voice offered from the other side of the room. "I thought you might like it."

Disbelief flooded Byakuya as he turned to face his Lieutenant. The sculpture sitting on his desk, tiny as it was, was one of the most exquisite art pieces even he had ever had the pleasure of seeing. He could not imagine how many years of Renji's salary that wondrous little tree must have taken - simply because Renji thought he might like it?

Carefully, he shifted the tiny sculpture closer to the center of his desk, not daring to risk that anything might jostle it from a riskier perch. Running one finger almost worshipfully across the golden roots, Byakuya rose slowly, turning to face his nervous Lieutenant.

"Sir...?" Renji asked uneasily, edging backwards in his seat. He looked worried enough to bolt, and Byakuya solved that by taking a single Flashstep across the small distance of the room, settling one hand gently on Renji's shoulder to keep the younger man in his seat.

"Renji," Byakuya intoned slowly, catching and holding the other's garnet gaze with his own amethyst one, "it is the most exquisite gift I have ever received. And," he added, leaning closer across the barrier of the desk, "I thank you."

It was barely a touch, his lips against Renji's; easy enough to dismiss or explain away, should they have wanted to.

But, Byakuya realized, seeing the blush that spread across Renji's sharp cheekbones as he drew back from that feathered kiss, it was not something that he wanted to explain away.

The growing warmth in Renji's eyes suggested that he had no desire to dismiss it, either.

Epilogue -

Centuries later, when time had threaded silver silk through Byakuya's dark hair, he turned silently away from the window of his bedroom, where he had been watching moonlight gilding his sakura trees with molten silver.

He slipped silently into the bed in the center of the room, causing the other occupant of the mattress to stir at the movement. Smiling to himself, Byakuya wound his fingers gently into his lover's crimson mane, waiting as dark-ruby eyes blinked open.

" 's it midnight yet?" came the low voice, sleep-roughened, and Byakuya feathered a kiss across the firm mouth.

"Yes, a few minutes past."

"Hm. Good." Rolling to face his love, Renji tucked the dark head gently under his chin, feeling Byakuya's arms encircling his waist even as he embraced the other's shoulders.

On a polished wooden table against the wall of the bedroom, a tiny statue stood, gleaming softly in the darkness. There was not enough light to make out the details, but both men had memorized its beauty long ago; the golden bark, the enameled leaves, the jeweled fruit, and the single, tiny bird that perched in its branches.

So many times, that little jewel bird had heard the words that were whispered now, the rough voice heavy with sleep and singing with love.

"Happy birthday, Byakuya."