Thank you for clicking, and welcome to never-updating hell. I've decided to revisit this old story of mine and re-do a few things, but hopefully it won't change the general reception drastically... Without further ado-

"You are to address him as Kuchiki-sama."

The elderly woman's wrinkled, but strong hands worked their way through my new, clean, beautiful oh so beautiful clothes. She tied tiny strings so soft and silky they resembled spider's web. Spider's web...

Never in my life had I seen clothes as beautiful. Silly - they were only servant's robes, Kami - but the feeling of happiness clutched my throat so tight that even if I could speak, I probably wouldn't have.

Remembering the elderly woman's words, I nodded, even though, obviously, there was no way I'd ever address him.

"You are to address his wife as Hisana-sama."

Beautiful, gentle Hisana-sama. From what I'd heard - and I hadn't heard much - she was a kind, candid sort of person. Maybe, I thought, I resembled her a bit. Pfft. In my dreams.

"You are to never interrupt their personal conversations, unless you carry a message from someone of Kuchiki-sama's rank. Understood?"

The kind elderly woman had very small, blue eyes that pierced me with intelligence and coldness. Although dressed in the robes of a servant, like me, she still seemed more fit to fight as a Shinigami than take care of the Kuchiki mansion. I wouldn't have put it past her that she was a thief or knifer back in the Rukongai.

Oookay. Enough of that. She was looking at me expectantly, which meant she wanted me to say something.

"Well? Are you deaf, girl? What's your name?"

It was time to admit I was a mute. Or... you know, not.

With my left hand, the one I found dominant and the one free of the standard Kuchiki household glove, I reached to show her the wooden pendant on my neck. It was the only word I knew how to write, and that's just because some dead fisherman showed me, years ago. He was a distanced man, he appreciated the fact I never asked questions. As a parting gift, and also pay, he gave me this necklace - and a name. Mizuka. The scent of water. An aroma I couldn't remember, but he always described as 'more beautiful than a woman's', so.

"Na... hm, I can barely... oh, Mizuka. Well, Mizuka-chan, my name is Hana.", as she spoke, her voice got softer and her eyes changed into the kind pupils of a granny. She was a hard-working, trustworthy woman. Or I was just really naive. Either way, I was going to find out sooner or later. "If you need help, you can come to me - but in reasonable hours, you understand."

I nodded eagerly, ready to start. Behind my most obvious motive - I truly needed to be employed, Kami - stood boldly my deep love and respect for the great families. Seeing... just seeing more of the mansion... the mere thought of it made my heart beat faster. I would try to keep some pride, but it was going to be a struggle.

Time went by and my hopes slowly rotated back to where they'd come from. Kuchiki-sama and Hisana-sama where nowhere to be seen. I started feeling depressed. The news of being offered a place in the Kuchiki mansion pulled me right out of an ocean of darkness - only to make me jump head-first right back into it. Damn.

You'd be amazed if you saw what the mansion was like, though. Just a brief walk through those beautiful corridors made at least half of my sorrow go away. As my hands dipped a cloth in a bowl of water and scrubbed the floor where Kiri had spilt warm milk, my eyes wandered over the walls, desperately trying not to blink. To be honest, my deep admiration was a laughable topic for the others - the other servants, that is - and I couldn't blame them, but I also couldn't stop. What a little fool... what a little fool I was, stunned by the glory surrounding me.

But what else can a girl who grew up in the slums of Rukongai do?

"That's seriously enough, Mizuka-chan", said Kiri's voice, waking me from my daydream. I hadn't realised my hands were still scrubbing - dear, they'd gotten red. I frowned a little. "You... yeah, whatever, it will do."

Her slightly patronizing look wasn't embarrassing for me. She found me endearing, well, I was barely fifteen on the surface - I died well past the age of thirty, though, this childish attitude was just a part of my character - but there was no way to tell her this. I couldn't write, only sign, and that language was so rarely known that I didn't even bother trying it anymore.

I raised the bowl and put the cloth in it again, then passed the whole thing to Kiri. She helped me up. Her hands were sturdy and rough, she'd worked for the Kuchiki family far longer than me.

I remembered her first words to me, rude, brutal - 'get your shit together, girl, this is no place for weaklings'. Pfft, I knew that very well. And I was no weakling.

"Are you going to say something? Or are you gonna just sit here and look at me with your doe eyes? Get to work, you hear me?"

She looked so dangerous back then. The kind of woman who was born aged fifty. Though her face made me believe she was barely in her twenties, I knew she her real age had more digits.

I once heard her yelling at a servant boy. Poor thing, got lost in time staring at her. Kiri was very beautiful. Maybe not her nose, or her strong jawline, but her eyes were always warm. Some people's eyes are simply warm.

She laughed roughly, noticing I wouldn't let go of her hand even after she'd pulled me to my feet.

"What are you doing that for? Don't act so overly grateful, it's gross.", she said. "Listen, you're needed in the kitchen."

Nod. Before she knew it, I was off.

I had spent many years in the Rukongai, working as a nurse, a helper, a servant. Though you may think having no voice made my life harder, with time I realised it was the opposite - people were more willing to accept me as a worker, simply because I came with a secrecy guarantee. A quiet, invisible girl sneaking about, capable of answering in only two ways - yes, no - and silently, too. Not to act immodest, but then again, being mute wasn't a trait I could be proud of. I hadn't ripped my tongue out for it or anything. I just... I just was like this.

(Also, oh the satisfaction of knowing secrets. Dirty little secrets that slipped right into my head and never left, and what was even better, I wasn't bound by a single promise. Employers found it obvious that I wouldn't tell. Perhaps they should have thought twice.)

Purity is not one of those things I have. Doe eyes or not, my personality is... pretty rotten, and the only innocence left is my admiration. Other than that, you'll find I make a good actress and display way too much pride at times. Stuck-up, for a mere servant.

"Mizuka-chan", Hana noticed my entry from her wooden chair under one of the kitchen walls. "You look terrible. Change clothes immediately."
Nod. A few moments later I was in a dusty pink kimono, the one I dirtied while cleaning left waiting for me to fix it up later on. Returning to see Hana, I noticed from the corridor that her chair was already empty - dear, I must have angered her somehow. Maybe I took too long...?

"Calm down, you're panicking", there she was, back again, a tray in her hands. "I can see everything in your eyes, how do you do that? Kami.", she let out a deep sigh, reminding me of her old age, "Now carry this up to Hisana-sama's quarters. She's in bed, very sick, don't disturb her."

I definitely won't. My steps didn't echo on the stairs.

Neither Hisana-sama or Kuchiki-sama were purposely hiding from me. That much was clear, come on. The very idea was ridiculous. It just so happened that I... well, I wasn't lucky enough to see them. However, now that I was headed to her room - Hisana-sama's room - I couldn't help but feel mildly curious.

Mildly. Who am I kidding.

From what Kiri had told me in a scolding tone when we washed the dishes, I knew Hisana-sama suffered from something very serious. I had met ill souls before - the Rukongai was filled with them - but for me, a noble... how could someone as pure and perfect as a noble be ill?

I was naive for a proud piece of shit.

Hisana slept in a bed originally meant for guests. The one she'd once shared with Kuchiki-sama was now his alone; I hadn't been there yet, but on the other hand, I hadn't had much time to investigate. That didn't mean I wasn't going to. As you might have guessed, rules weren't something I worked by, but I made sure nobody noticed me when I broke them. I was planning on taking a walk and listening in on Hisana-sama and Kuchiki-sama some time.

With a sigh, I pressed on the door handle with my elbow and entered Hisana-sama's bedroom.

"Who is that?", came an absent voice.

Oh, how much did I want to answer that. I had quite a beautiful name. Instead, I placed the tray on her bedside table, then bowed low and showed her my pendant.
Hisana was indeed wonderful, with huge, violet eyes and silky hair. How sickness could fall on someone this beautiful - it was absurd to me. Absurd. I felt a tiny, tiny bit of sadness. She lay alone amongst white sheets, so white they made her face se even paler. This was one of the 'worse' days. 'Worse' because Hisana-sama felt 'worse' and 'worse' because Kuchiki-sama... well, Kuchiki-sama didn't speak a word to anyone, locking himself in his study or spending the whole day away from home.

"Are you... are you crying, Mizuka-chan?", Hisana smiled faintly, but her eyes soon lost focus and drifted away from me. It felt like she was talking from behind some kind of barrier. It wasn't pride; I knew pride, believe me.

Hisana-sama was... ignorant of her surroundings. As if she did not see them. My eyes followed her dark hair, slowly closing eyelids - she was a poor soul. Possibly younger than me. How could anyone younger than me suffer like this? It's not fair.

I shook my head furiously. This poor, poor woman.

Seeing she'd lost interest in me, or perhaps (probably, of course, Kami) she was simply too tired to pay attention to me, I exited the room as swiftly as I entered. Still I couldn't shake the feeling there was something odd about her. Something out of place.

Maybe it'd been the fact she was in the guest room. Probably that, because... she felt like nothing more than a visitor. She felt... like an acquaintance of Kuchiki-sama's, but that was of course impossible... she was his wife. He'd married her and he loved her. And she loved...

My brow furrowed, but before I could actually admit to myself something was wrong with that sentence, my mind had already pushed it away as nonsense.

Nonsense. Nothing more.

"Mizuka-chan, have you met Hisana-sama yet?", asked Kiri one time, walking past me. We shared a room in the household's small wing - nothing other than two beds, a desk and a window, but still more than I'd ever owned.

Nod.

"And?", she gave me an expectant glance.

My lips pulled into a kind, but slightly patronizing smile. Kiri rolled her eyes.

"Why do I ask, you like everyone. But... you know...", she looked away suddenly, surprising me. "I'm... there's this rumour going round."

My brows furrowed.

"Rumour that, well... Hisana-sama... oh, what am I doing.", she suddenly shook her head. "Forget it. I'm babblin' nonsense."

Nonsense. Yes, I knew what she meant.

There was no big 'introduction'. The first time I met Kuchiki-sama was simple and momentary and to be honest left me kind of appalled. He'd passed me in a corridor, headed for Hisana-sama's quarters with his lips pursed in worry and his fists clenched. He didn't even notice me, like I was air. Excuse you, I thought after him, raising my eyebrows.

Much to my joy, I passed him a few times more in the next week. And the next. Though I had felt the royal aura of Hisana-sama, it was nothing compared to the wavelength Byakuya (yes, I'd started calling him that in my thoughts, nobody would find out anyway) gave off. His very presence made people pull their feet together and stand up straight.

His face, so trained, in his desperation to make it into a mask. His chin, raised lightly. His grey eyes... shimmering with worry.

To my own bitter surprise, I realised soon that Kuchiki-sama... Byakuya... was taking Hisana's illness a lot worse than she was.

I began observing. Slowly.

I carried tea around, I washed the dishes, I smiled so much my face hurt, behind that hiding my mixed irritation and curiosity. There were more people working at the mansion than you'd think - after all, no one ever saw them, except for other servants - and they weren't half as stuck-up as your Mizuka-sama, which was surprising. Weren't they meant to be... like, royal servants? Huh, my mistake. The likeable thing about them, though, was the politeness (minus Kiri). I never got a bad word.
The reason Kiri was the way she was, as I'd found out, was that Hana had adopted her and given her most of the house responsibilities. One of those was me. Kiri could order me about freely, in consequence – aaand that explained why she never treated the others that way. Ugh.

"Check if Hisana-sama needs something."

Three minutes later I was back with a shake of my head to offer.

"Check if Hisana-sama is feeling worse."

Moments after I returned, I told Kiri a meal was needed, waited for the meal, and took it up to Hisana-sama's room. The stairs seemed longer every time, and my clothes were getting hot.

"Mizuka-chan, Kuchiki-sama will come see you later today. Remember to wash up."

Keeping her words in mind, like I always did, I went about my orders. You have to work for your pay, and complaining didn't go through my head; although I usually provided a mean commentary for myself when faced with something that didn't please me. If I don't talk to myself, who will, I mused, putting a wet piece of cloth into a glass and turning it around a few times to clean it out.

With my mentality, survival was almost easy. Looking back on Rukongai, it struck me that I'd had it good. Of course, I didn't sleep in a bed of silk sheets, but then again I was almost always offered a bed for a night. If I took long-term work at an inn or a place of that sort, I would also have a free meal. Food was nice. It's impossible for a soul to starve, of course, and I had no real spiritual power to speak of, but that didn't change the fact I liked eating.

Maybe that was why I was the proud beggar back in the day. I was given more than others. I could freely look down on people, because... because I was almost safe.
It probably wasn't right. I shook my head. One thing I knew - I made an excellent servant. I certainly wouldn't spill milk like Kiri.

"Pardon."

Oh dear, was it time already? No good, I wasn't done. I raised a finger, gesturing Kuchiki Byakuya to hang in there for a moment.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw that he was startled. Irritation mixed with agitation. He looked restless; after about a minute, I heard him sit down with a rustle of clothing. Patient, was he? Interesting.

Well, I perfectly knew I shouldn't be keeping him waiting, but I had a job to do. I didn't like leaving things unfinished.

"Mizuka-san?"

His voice sounded young. I didn't know what I had expected - Kami knows, I'd seen his face enough times to guess - but it came a surprise. Momentary. I focused on the fork.

"Are you hard of hearing, girl?"

Dear, only ten minutes in, and he was already so upset. Before I lost my job, I put the fork away and finally turned to face him. He was sitting with his knees together, back rested on the wall, but the posture se ed stiff. He was dressed in a beautiful haori, and in his long, black hair I immediately noticed kenseikan. This meant he'd only come home.

Remembering his question, I shook my head and put on a polite, distanced smile. Then I sunk into a low bow.

This, Byakuya apparently decided to answer. He too got to his feet (shame flashed across his face and I realised he was feeling guilty for sitting down) and lowered his head in a greeting. I peeked at him as he did so, and immediately got interested in the odd way his hair was combed in the back.

Ooops, too much staring. He was upright again.

"I was earlier informed of your...", he skipped a beat, "disability, Mizuka."

Hmph, so no -san for me anymore? Very well. No honorific at all was better than -chan. It was cuteish, but not particularly enjoyable, and besides - made me feel below those who spoke to me. I did not like feeling that way.

As a reply to his words, I placed a hand over my throat and my lips quirked in amusement.

His brows drew closer together until a small wrinkle formed between them. He didn't understand me and it bothered him. Dear, I should have acted a little more like Mizuka-chan would. Not Mizuka-sama.

"It was my intention to ask you 'yes' and 'no' questions to make communication easier. Is that fine by you?", he continued hesitantly. Taking a moment to wipe my hands, I nodded.

Byakuya's features relaxed.

"Are you satisfied with working here?"

Nod.

"Do Hana-san and the other servants treat you accordingly?"

Nod. Followed by a soundless laugh that I couldn't help. He was so serious! It may sound like I'm being condescending, and I am a bit, but... I couldn't help it.
Something about Byakuya's eyes made them convey the impression he could see through any mask. Freed from my Mizuka-chan manners by those strange eyes, my hands raised themselves and began speaking a language I hadn't used in decades.

Accordingly? Yes, they do! Kiri is a bit rough sometimes, but I'm perfectly aware she's a good person. She's only a bitch on the outside, you might say.

I blinked in shock, realising that I'd let my 'inner commentary' cease to be 'inner'. For a few terrible moments, I thought he'd understood - but the bewilderment on his face quickly proved me wrong. Byakuya didn't have a clue when it came to signing. And thank Kami for that.

"My apologies- I", he blinked as well, composing himself, "I'm afraid I have no knowledge of this language. I deeply apologize..."

The way- the way he was completely lost was precious. I quickly shook my head and hands, a sorry look on my face - or so I hoped, because it was fairly imaginable that my expression gave away how taken I was.

"Is... writing perhaps among your abilities?", he questioned with a flicker or curiosity.

My turn to look repentant. Byakuya nodded with understanding, like Kiri before him, quickly getting the hang of my facial expressions.

He said a few more things that day and went to Hisana's quarters, making me think.

And once more, I pushed those thoughts away as simple nonsense.

Worn out and with my eyelids so sticky I had to hold them open, I walked... crawled... something between those two means of transportation... into my bed. Kiri was already sound asleep in hers, with her back to me. Though a large part of me was glad to see her resting, I was no saint - a small, tiny prick of jealousy hit my gut.

Tiny. Yeah.

It didn't last more than two minutes. I moved forward, and suddenly felt the edge of a plate under my hand. Kiri had left me mocchi from today's dessert. I thought they'd all been taken for Byakuya and Hisana, but...

My heart shrunk. Or maybe grew? Anyway, it hurt. I almost burst into tears. Almost.

AN: Yeah... young Byakuya is... whooooa. Heart eyes. If you read up to here, you are a veteran.
(Of course, all rights to Kubo. Fanfiction is written purely for fun, not money.)