A/N: Hey guys! So this is it, the last chaptr. I was originally going to write an epilogue, but it seems redundant considering I will be writing a sequel for this story. Which, let me tell you, I'm so hyped about. It'll be a while because I need to make some headway on some other stories, but look out for Slow Dancing: Seeing is Believing or just add me to your favorites

There's not much left to say except thank you. Your support has meant so much and I honestly hope I could make you guys feel at least a fraction of the happiness you gave me.

About reviews, I usually respond at the bottom but fanficton is having some technical problems and won't let me see any of my comments at the moment. Still, I really want to hear what you guys thought of this last chapter, so please drop me a review

Terms to know

I would like to apologize for my, at timss, lack luster translations. Often in japanese there are many words for the same thing depending on the level of formality. For instance, I had Byakuya using Otōsan for father when Chichi was the correct tearm. I'm going to go back and fix all the mistakes as to keep with continuity.

Muken: Prison

Shitagi: Undershirt to a soul reapers uniform gobantai: 5th division

Chichi: Formal way to say father

rokubantai: 6th division

oi/mei: Niece/nephew

Tochan: This is the most casual way of saying father without being rude

Musume: Daughter /span/p

Song: The Cinematic Orchestra's "Build a Home." (Guys, this song is literally half the reason this fic exist. It inspired a big part of it and every time I lacked the will to finish, I always went back. I definitely encourage you to check it out)

The Brightest Hour

xXx

There is a house built out of stone

Wooden floors, walls and window sills

Tables and chairs worn by all of the dust

This is a place where I don't feel alone

This is a place where I feel at home

'Cause, I built a home

For you

For me

Until it disappeared

From me

From you

Byakuya bypassed his nightly tea and walked into his sleeping chambers. He left the shinto doors open as he undressed so that he could feel the breeze against his now bare skin. The wind grazed over his body like it was grazing over an empty battlefield, with a hollowness to its howl, essence-less without something there to feel its caress. There was no one living underneath his skin. The wind was wasted on him.

Without really knowing how, he was dressed in his nemaki, tying the obi almost mechanically with a foggy disconnect between the movements and his awareness of them.

Byakuya suddenly felt a heat at his back and an encouraging firmness against his exposed chest. He knew those steady breaths intimately, had felt their warmth on every part of him, and only wished to step from under these layers of dissociation so he could feel them fully once again.

"I called out to you, but you didn't answer," Ichigo spoke into his neck, his silvery voice charming sensation back into Byakuya's skin. "You're doing it again, that thing where you go inside yourself."

As much as he loved Ichigo, it couldn't be helped. If Byakuya was the rapidly spinning earth and Ichigo the sun, their love was the gravity between them that kept him in orbit. But no matter how anchored he was, the earth would always just be the earth, a landmass of imperfections, simply lucky to have the sun's attraction.

"Love can only do so much. You can not fix me, Ichigo."

"Hey, where's that coming from?" Ichigo asked. "I don't want to fix you, Byakuya. I just want to support you."

Byakuya wavered, almost allowing himself to be knocked out of Ichigo's orbit before leaning back into him. "I know… I am sorry for lashing out. It is my own insecurities, I suppose." He dipped his head with a dejected huff and said, "You always manage to surprise me. Being young and inexperienced with relationships, I did not expect you to be so much better at this than I. Sometimes I wonder how am I to keep up with you."

Ichigo shifted Byakuya's hair all to one side of his neck before peppering the other with soft kisses. "It's not a race, Kuyakik," he said, "and if it is, we're partners in it. I'll fall too, but when I do, I know you'll be there to help me up."

Byakuya leaned his head against Ichigo's shoulder and angled his arms behind him, clutching the fabric covering his lover's hips. "Make love to me," he said, careening his neck and pulling Ichigo deeper against him.

Ichigo's hands washed over Byakuya's torso and cascaded past his belly like brisk water. "So demanding," he muttered, lapping at the length of skin Byakuya had stretched out for him. He dragged his lips to nip at his lover's ear and said, "Tell me how Kato's hearing went first."

"...I chose to beseech for his execution."

To most it would seem cold, and perhaps as he stood in front of the court, he was in that Kuchiki head space where only logic and ice existed, but his intentions, they came from a place of mercy. Kato lost his whole family because of his own actions. That was punishment plenty. Living centuries in Muken, only to be made by those memories, living at all, that was the cruelty. Byakuya had learned long ago that sometimes death was a kindness in itself.

Yes, to most it would seem cold, but Byakuya knew Ichigo Kurosaki wasn't most. Even still, for one moment, he worried that the sun would stop spinning around him.

"You did the right thing," Ichigo said, and Byakuya not only felt like he was living to see the sun another day, but as if the sun itself was telling him he deserved it's light.

"I know," Byakuya said back, and he knew that was the end of the conversation. Ichigo had this uncanny way of knowing what was worth pushing for and what wasn't, and Byakuya loved him all the more for that.

"Now, I believe you are to hold up your end of our bargain."

Ichigo let out a low, surrendering growl as his hands fluttered up to Byakuya's nipples, nipples that throbbed under the pressure of kneading fingers. He sucked at the noble's neck and dipped between his legs to tease his perineum, making his whole body curve.

"Like this, Byakuya? I know you like it when I touch you here."

"More."

It was down right debased how needy he was for Ichigo. Completely shameful the way he always refilled on his lover, but Ichigo made it so easy to undress from his pride when he stripped from his clothes, because he did the same. Ichigo gave so graciously and took with the same gluttony, and really, that was Byakuya's greatest pride, being able to fill up this amazing man in the same way he filled up on him.

He had been starved for so long, and certainly, he didn't deserve this, this delicious fullness. He didn't deserve Ichigo at all.

Several moments of indiscernible passion later, Byakuya clothes were discarded and unimportant, and even though he was sure he had met each step with equal enthusiasm, the noble couldn't quite recall the moves that had brought them here. Ichigo had prepared him with an eager readiness, but the enjoyment of it was muddied by this persistent fog, one Byakuya dearly wanted to disperse. Because on the other side of that fog, was Ichigo, Ichigo and his unfiltered touches. On the other side of that fog was everything that was real and meaningful to him.

Once fully settled, he let out a sigh, and Byakuya's body followed his lead, opening up, reveling in how snug Ichigo felt inside of him.

His eyes popped at the press of a hand against his mouth, but he soon calmed when Ichigo's words seeped in through the fingers silencing him.

"Relax," he said, words as soft and lulling as the swiveling of his hips. "Right now, right here, it's just you and me."

Byakuya's whole body sunk beneath those words, his eyes closing in a slow motion as Ichigo hoisted a leg to wrap around his side. Ichigo did not thrust in and out, but simply rotated his hips. He gradually worked his way in until he found the deepest point of Byakuya, and once there, he moved at an agonizingly slow pace, his cock ceaselessly caressing the noble's most vulnerable and sensitive spot.

Ichigo left no gaps between them. No grinding or the slapping of skin, just meshing, molding, two flavors giving their all to each other until they were one.

Honey and whiskey.

"Feel me inside of you. That's all that matters right now."

All of that condensed pleasure coiled into the pit of his belly, bulged against the capsizing hand that covered his mouth. From the pulp of his hole, to the futility of his moans, Ichigo subjugated every part of him. How freeing it was, to be imprisoned within the cage of his lover's body.

He had never peaked so quickly in his life.

Byakuya's thighs and arms latched onto Ichigo, and as he arched in release, his lover pressed a hand into the small of his back to push them as close as physical boundaries would allow. When a creamy heat filled him, Byakuya's legs relaxed and Ichigo rested against his forearms. The euphoria simmered and settled in between their touching chest.

"Feel better?" Ichigo asked, a dazed smugness in his voice.

"I did not teach you that," Byakuya said wryly, looping his arms around Ichigo's neck and gracing his jaw with teasing nips.

"It's called independent study."

"How studious of you," Byakuya jested, combing his fingers through Ichigo's haphazard locks. "I did not know you to be so dominant in bed. I… enjoyed it."

"I really didn't either," Ichigo said, a curiosity to his tone, "but I like it too."

He rolled off of Byakuya, but only long enough to scoop his shitagi from off the floor and wipe the come from off both of them.

"My attendants wash those. I would rather not have my laundry be the topic of gospic."

"Hey," Ichigo reasoned, "that's why I choose the shitagi. It's white. Besides, it's not like they don't know."

Byakuya sighed and shifted his eyes. "I will teach you manners yet, starting with how to properly utilize tissues to their fullest extent." When Ichigo snorted humorously and plopped down at his side, the noble said, "We should bath."

He went to stand, only to find a imploring arm wrapped around his waist.

"In a little bit," Ichigo said as Byakuya allowed himself to be tucked into the curve of his lovers body. "Just want to hold you for a while."

Although it wasn't rare to find themselves wrapped in a post love making heap, Ichigo was never so declarative about his wants. Byakuya understood though. Ever since Ichigo had began his new post as a captain, with the maelstrom that was the squadrons complete lack of organization and coherent leadership, matched with his inexperience, most of his time was spent in the disarray that was the fifth division barracks, and as a result, these private, easy spoken moments seemed more like an occasion than a constant.

Byakuya helped, often going to the fifth division after his work was through to find Ichigo all but drooling over a wall of paperwork. He did this both because it was a reason to be with his lover and because he knew Ichigo wouldn't take offense. The younger man wasn't a prideful being like himself, and as such, he welcomed the assistance of anyone who could help him in becoming the best captain that he could be. He would, of course, become an amazing leader. Everything he needed to be one was already inside of him, and Byakuya felt honored being able to help cultivate that potential.

Sometimes Byakuya wondered what would happen when Ichigo outgrew him, certain of its inevitability. He had to shake those thoughts away, not because they were particularly unreasonable, but because they weren't helpful. Because there were times when Byakuya wondered why Ichigo, the man who could have anyone, chose him. Because he knew those thoughts could compel a man like himself to push Ichigo away. Because he wouldn't let his past heartbreaks and that classical Kuchiki conditioning dictate him. Because he had to believe Ichigo's affections were true despite the fact that Byakuya loved in the same way a scratched record played. Because he had turned sadness into fear and fear into coldness, but when Ichigo touched him...

When Ichigo touched him, everything went still. The only thing Byakuya could hear was the beating of Ichigo's heart telling him this was real, and he realized that, for a man like that to love a man like him, there had to be more to himself than he could see.

Byakuya laid there blissfully nestled in between Ichigo arms. He enjoyed feeling Ichigo's chest at his back, and he knew Ichigo liked the feeling of protecting what was his own. Here in the privacy of their bedroom, he would gladly give that to Ichigo.

After a few minutes of idle cuddling, Byakuya could feel Ichigo's breathing become shallow, indicating that he was nearing sleep. When he began to make little throaty noises that weren't quite snoring, the noble knew they probably wouldn't be getting a bath this evening.

'He has been so busy with making the gobantai functional again that he must be exhausted, and yet, he was so generous in our love making tonight. I, at times, wish that my pride did not get in the way of expressing how grateful I am. Everytime I try, I hear those same voices, telling me how ridiculously sentimental I am being.'

In one swift and stealthy maneuver, he turned in Ichigo's hold, careful not to wake him. Once facing him, Byakuya traced the dimensions of his face. The slack muscles and shifting eyelids told the noble he was entering a deeper sleep.

"The man who never knew his Haha. The man who lost both his chichi and ojisan and his only friend. The man who loved a woman who could not love him back, whose only importance was determined by elders who cared nothing about him, that is all that I was before I met you, Ichigo." He paused, shifting so that his head was umbrellaed under Ichigo's chin. "I was distant and cold, and in ways, I will always be. I spent so much time hiding from the world that, eventually, it began hiding from me. I belonged nowhere. I was simply walking in between planes of existence."

It was peculiar behavior, speaking in such maudlin capacity words that were received by no one as if he was practicing lines, and maybe he was. Maybe he was rehearsing for a day where his bravado outweighed his pride.

"But you knew that feeling too, yes?" he said, circling Ichigo's face with an affectionate sweep of his hand. "Our gallant hero with flowers at his feet. So many flowers that you began to drown in them." Byakuya leaned in and kissed softly his forehead. "You are so much more than a hero to me, Ichigo Kurosaki."

Ichigo's eyelids shuttered, the duvet rippled, and he let out a yawn, prompting Byakuya to pull away.

"Hey, 'Kuya, ya say something?"

"No," Byakuya fibbed, thumbing circles on Ichigo's cheek. "Just admiring."

"Well admire closer." Ichigo muttered, pulling Byakuya back into the comfort of his body, tucking his head under the nook of the nobles chin. "I'm cold."

He stuck a leg between Byakuya's pair and sighed contently before asking, "So, you're going to be a parent tomorrow. Are you nervous?"

"Terribly."

"You'll be great. Just look at how you are with Artemis. You bake her homemade treats and spend thirty minutes every night brushing her coat."

"Ichigo, she is a dog."

"Exactly, how do you think you'll be when it's an actual kid?"

Byakuya blinked thoughtfully.

"With Hisana," he said, "I could feel our child growing inside of her. See it. With this child, I believe it is just now hitting me that this is really happening. I am now riddled with questions and concerns in the same way I was with Arisa. How will I raise them, my heir, with the same expectations I had without the same heavy heart?"

"I don't think there's any helping that, but they'll be loved by you, Fujita, Rukia… me."

The finger caressing at Ichigo's naked sides paused, and Byakuya realized he overlooked something massive.

"Ichigo, we should talk about that."

"What's there to talk about?"

"Ichi-"

"You think too much sometimes," Ichigo said, rolling onto his back and bring Byakuya with him. "There's somethings you can't plan for, but I'm with you, whatever that means."

Kurosaki Ichigo, his lover. He was stubborn, and at times, arrogantly optimistic, but he was also right. He couldn't plan for this, not completely, but he could dream. He could dream of Ichigo and himself raising this child. He could dream of birthdays and weddings, first steps and the laughter of children, and everything else he never thought he could really have. Maybe by himself they would always stay just dreams, but Ichigo was the type of man that turned dreams into reality and reality into stone pillars.

"Besides, I'm not completely thoughtless. I knew this would happen when we got together."

"Yes, you are not completely thoughtless."

"Shut up and go to sleep, will you?"

"Very well," Byakuya said, making a place for himself against Ichigo's chest. "And Ichigo?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

"I love you too."

xXx

Ichigo was nervous.

He wouldn't admit it, of course, but it was there, wet on his palms and wadded up at the bottom of his throat as he allocated Gotie members into small, organized units.

This was his first mission as the leading captain. This was his first mission ever, and with the credulous encouragement of the commander, Jushiro, and of course, Byakuya, he stood on that faith.

It was simple. Each group had a chain hitched glass cylinder filled with Byakuya's Kidou fused reiatsu, and all the needed to do was insert them into different, predetermined locations across Hueco Mundo. If all went well, they'd be back to Soul Society before dinner.

Ichigo stood with his group - Grimmjow and a member of the 7th division, but they were missing someone. Irritable and in a hurry, Ichigo shunpo back to the bass in search for the absentee Rikichi.

He pushed through the flapped entrance to see Rikichi rubbing fist into his eye sockets, standing with what looked like a book tucked between his pit.

Rikichi looked up with glossy eyes, making Ichigo's scowl drop into a curious frown.

"Sorry, Kurosaki Taichou."

He stood tall, if not a bit frail, but Ichigo wasn't the type to need impressing.

"Rikichi, what's wrong?"

His chary hand wavered as he reached for the book. With shadowed eyes, he flipped to a partially charred page.

"You know, they finally finished construction on the rokubantai barracks."

"Yeah…"

"Well they had a big box of personal items that were found in the rubble. I found this journal right before coming here today. It belonged to Renji."

Ichigo's anxious, mission ready feet became attached to the moment and his head perked forward as if he was listening out for the echo of a sound made years ago.

"It's silly," Rikichi said. "I haven't cried since I found out that he died, but this...It just got to me."

It made sense. People were haunted houses like that. We scrubbed the floors, dusted the cobwebbed corners, and opened our doors up for the new and the living, but there was no telling when a ghost might come walking through our walls.

"I think… I mean, I know from reading this that Renji was in love with Kuchiki Taichou, and I guess it reminded me of all the things he'll never have."

It was odd, the way people process information. When someone says something, you typically take it in easily and respond to it readily. Now, however, at those words, at those completely unpredictable, ridiculous words, Ichigo didn't feel anything. He didn't even feel confused. Instead, he just stood there, loading, the words spinning in his head like a buffering icon, slowly becoming part of him forever.

The confusion came, and then there was the immediate denial.

"Wh- How? Why would you say that?"

Rikichi declined his head towards the journal and recited:

"Lips, pink parted softness

And cruel, like your petals.

Wreck me with that blade."

He closed the journal and looked up. "I'm not big on haiku's, but it seems pretty obvious to me. There's a dozen just like that, and I…"

Ichigo was no longer listening, just tumbling through confusion. He wasn't sure how he felt. All he knew was that he was emotionally compromised. Something inside of him wasn't the same as it was just moments before, and rather this was passing or permanent, he wasn't sure what to do with that change.

"What the hell are you ass holes doing in here?" Grimmjow asked, punching his way into tent. He must've noticed the trouble staunch in their expression, because he stopped his scolding long enough to look at them with scowling eyes. "Can yall save the girl talk for later? I want to get this over with," he said before leaving the tent again.

Ichigo was happy for the intrusion, because he could've spent days it felt like trying to understand something that might not even be solvable. For now, he had a mission to complete.

xXx

Byakuya's whole body felt like the hollow of a drum, a thumping sensation filling him as he moved closer and closer to the twelfth division.

As he entered, he noticed that Mayuri's reiatsu wasn't nearby, and for the first time in his life, he felt grateful for the presence of Urahara.

"Ah, Kuchiki Taichou, I've been waiting on you. I presume you're here to pick up the future heir to the Kuchiki legacy?"

He had been sent a hells butterfly telling him that his child was being "completed" today, and at what time he should arrive, so he wasn't all too appreciative of the frivolous small talk, especially when that thumping had turned into a pounding that sat right between his eyes.

"Yes, I am here to pick up my child."

"Well here you go," Urahara said, and just like that, there was an infant plopped down in his arms, and it was so sudden and unusual and now he really wished there had been more small talk because what was he suppose to do with this little person he was cradling?

The abruptness of it all stole any reaction that he might have made, and instead, he stood there all slack faced and lacking.

Byakuya heard stories of parents counting the toes and kissing the plump little fingers of their babies, and he thought himself just fanatical enough to be one of those people, but in these first few pioneering moments of parenthood, he couldn't do much of anything. He just looked down with a pinched face and thought that he was more scared of this swaddled bundle of infancy more than he'd ever been of anything.

Urahara chuckled and Byakuya latched down on it, using the sound to pull himself out of his stupor.

"And what is so amusing."

"You. I've seen you face down the biggest and baddest monsters out there, and you've never looked this scared. Looks like we've found your weakness, Kuchiki Taichou."

Urahara was only stating what was already obvious to them both. Byakuya was petrified.

He could take a life without thought or mercy, but could he grow one?

"You did not just use my genetic material, yes?" Byakuya asked, because questions were easy, met by simple facts. Nothing at all like taking this blanket full of budding reiatsu and responsibility and turning them into a strong, decent, and perhaps most importantly, happy spiritual being.

"Of course," Urahara said, "It adds variety to your gene pool and makes for stronger, healthier offspring."

Right. First and foremost, this child was his heir. They were successor to his legacy. That was easy. That was teachable. He couldn't possibly mess that-

Then they squawked and garbled, squirmed in his arms as the beginning of a tantrum came on, and in an instant, they were so much more than matching D.N.A. They were chubby cheeks and baby rolls. They were late night feeding sessions and bedtime stories. They were tears and toothless smiles and needy, worming hand, but mostly, they were Byakuya's child. They were apart of his soul, and just the sound of their cry was enough to call on it.

Almost reflexively, he cradled them closer to his chest and whispered calming words, prompting Urahara to say, "Who knew you were so nurturing, Kuchiki Taichou."

Byakuya remembered Ichigo's words as he sat with their hands smothered in dirt, growing those trees right after the war.

'You give things life'

Yes, yes he was nurturing, and he was so much more too.

'I am not only a noble and a taichou. I am a man of morality and compassion. I have a soul that yearns to give back to the world. I can love this child correctly. I deserve to love them.'

Ichigo, the man who loved him into full bloom. He had tended to him well, but even the most seasoned horticulturist couldn't manage with unworkable soil. So Byakuya would keep telling himself these things. Even if they felt a bit forced, even if he didn't completely believe them, he'd add them to himself like fertilizer, and then one day, he'd see himself the way Ichigo did.

"Who is this child's other parent? I want them to know the entirety of their lineage."

"I'll go ahead and tell you, Kuchiki Taichou, I'm not sure how you'll feel about it."

If at all possible, Byakuya held his child even closer against him.

"What did you do?"

"Let's just say I'm a sentimental type of man."

xXx

Ichigo, having just finished reporting on the success of his mission, stepped out of the first division gathering hall and onto the paved walkway. No longer did he pass by the arching columns was he met by the scolding words of Rukia.

"Hey, fruit for brains."

Ichigo turned to see her, arms crossed and wearing a shape shifter of an expression that went from pissed off to mildly concerned. He blinked at her a few times with eyes that felt like smudged glass.

"Rukia, what are you doing here?"

"I was worried about you, moron. You were more silent and broody than usual today."

"I'm just tired."

It wasn't completely a lie. Today's realization left him with an exhaustion that sleep wouldn't fix, and just the thought of telling Rukia why took more energy than he was willing to give.

Honestly, Ichigo didn't think he could deal with one of their cheeky, bordering on hostile back and fourths right now, and maybe Rukia realized that, because when he looked back over to her, she seemed anything but angry.

"Come on," she said, nudging him forward. "Lets walk back to the manor."

They did, and Ichigo's stomach grew more depthless with every lazily taken step, expanding into a pitless cavern. Every so often, pain would shoot out of it like the echos of someone crying for help.

He knew what this feeling was. He had felt it before, and he knew that if he didn't do something with it, it would make holes out of him.

Maybe that's what made him stop to turn towards Rukia and say, "Renji was in love with Byakuya."

Her face was cloaked in sunset tinted shadows, silent and without ripples. There was no shock, but only recognition.

"You knew?"

"No, but it makes sense. Maybe I knew without knowing, I guess."

What Rukia didn't show with her face, Ichigo heard in her voice, and when she turned her back to him to look at the trees, he was sure she was giving them an expression she was too strong to give to him.

He let her have her moment, because even though he thought himself strong enough to hold anything Rukia put on him, Ichigo knew this wasn't about himself. She would talk in her own time. If he learned anything from Byakuya, it was that all ice melted eventually.

"Renji use to say he was a stray dog," she said, an unmistakable stickiness in her voice. "Idiot… He never realized we were stray dogs together."

Ichigo wasn't sure how he didn't realize it before. It seemed obvious now, staring at Rukia's back, nothing but the hazy afternoon sun and the sound of stifled tears between them, what the real tragedy of this war was. But that's how it was, right? The things we see isn't what light we catch with our eyes, but what we choose to pay attention to.

Byakuya and Ichigo had each other. Renji would

be reincarnated and have a chance at a new life, but Rukia? All off her childhood friends had died, and now that Renji was gone, the man she probably loved, she was the last of her pack. A true stray dog.

"Rukia, I-"

"Anyway," she cut Ichigo off, wiping away any tears as she turned back around. "That's a useless thing to worry about."

It was, and even though it was still apart of him, unchecked, Rukia's words widened his perspective. He had it too good to let this bother him so much.

"You should know by now that sometimes bad things happen and all you can do is let them run their course."

And with that, they wordlessly started walking, the light crunching of leaves taking the place of conversation for a while.

Once they got close enough to the mansion for it to be visible in the horizon, Rukia stopped again.

"You'll have to carry it like all the other things that have happened. It'll always be there, but the longer you carry something, the stronger you get." She looked up to him with sharp shooting eyes and added, "If you want to make it up to him, go cherish the life we all fought for you to have. Make it worth something."

Ichigo looked out towards the mansion, it's edges made fuzzy by the wave of heat. It looked so far away, yet always so promising.

He smiled.

"I will."

As he began to walk again, he noticed Rukia wasn't following. He looked back with a confused frown.

"You coming? I thought you'd be freaking out to meet your new oi or mei?"

"I'll be over later," she said with an afterthought of a smile. "I think this should be a moment you share with just Nii-sama."

"What are you talking about?"

Rukia rolled her eyes.

"You know as well as I do that Nii sama isn't the only one become a parent today."

Ichigo's feet wavered, and he felt her words like weights attached to the crevices of his lips.

"I'm with Byakuya. That's all I know."

She tutted and flipped her wrist.

"Call it whatever you want. You two- three are a family now."

Ichigo opened his mouth only to close it. His eyes searched the ground before he looked back up to her and said, "Yeah, but you're family too."

Her smile crumbled at the edges, but wilfully stayed stretched across her face.

"I know… but it's not the same."

He wanted to contest it. Really, he did, as if his stubborn declarations would make it less true. They would always be friends, but he'd be lying if he said Byakuya wouldn't be and hadn't been the biggest part of his life for a while now.

Things wouldn't be completely the same between him and Rukia, and Ichigo was again reminded that there were some things you couldn't change. In every bad situation there would be good and in every good situation there would be bad. It was just the duality of life.

"We'll always be friends, Rukia."

She scoffed and the corners of her eyes moistened.

"Of course, there no easy way I'm getting out of that."

They stood regarding each other, exchanging nothing but a warm silence for a while. Both aware that they should probably leave, but still wanting to stretch out the moment.

Finally, Rukia said, "So… You and Nii-sama, huh?"

Ichigo smirked.

"Yeah, me and Byakuya. Its…"

"Unbelievable, I know. What he sees in you I will never understand."

Ichigo wore his happiness in the form of a scowl opposed to a smile this time, and before he could say anything else, a pair of arms flung themselves around his neck.

His reciprocating embrace was shocked and delayed, but just as earnest, and in his ear, he heard, "I'm really happy for you. Nii-sama and you, you both deserve it."

"Thanks you," he said, and he meant it with a full heart, because honestly, he needed to be reminded of that sometimes.

Rukia released him with a clearing of the throat, looking as strong willed as ever. "Tell Nii-sama that I'll be by later."

"Yeah," he said with a smile, "We'll be looking out for you."

As they went on their separate paths, Ichigo felt fresher, not as if he had learned something, but as if he had accepted something.

xXx

When Ichigo opened the shinto doors to step onto the deck, it wasn't the newly sprouted red spider lilies that made him still in admiration, but something much more lively. From his comfortably observant distance, Ichigo could see just enough of the noble's face to note its determination. It fretted and stiffened as if readying itself for battle, but at the way Byakuya almost anxiously held a bit of his bottom lip between his teeth, Ichigo knew this was no normal enemy.

He was kneeled down beside Fujita, who was, by the looks of it, showing Byakuya how to change a diaper, and Ichigo almost laughed at the sight. Byakuya could've easily gave that job to his attendants and no one would've thought less of him, but Byakuya was a man with something to prove.

"Oh no, no, no," Fujita said, swatting Byakuya's hands away "You have to fold it this way- Ah yes, that's correct. Now remember to always put this cream on her after every changing." She looked down at the baby with a huge, cooing grin and lightly tickled her tummy. "Or this cute little tush will get a diaper rash."

"Is this baby babble going to be a continuous thing?"

Fujita looked up to the noble with a coy smirk before pinching his chin between two fingers. "I spoke baby talk to you also, Lord Kuchiki. A child needs more than the truncated lexicon of a nobleman. For instance," she said, plopping her hands down on her knees before standing up. "My little heiress needs a warm bottle, which I am going to go fix right now."

As she turned, she saw Ichigo and they both wore the smiles of devious children. She winked at him and put a finger up to her lips as she walked inside the mansion.

Byakuya stood with the swaddled babies head resting on his shoulder and his hand protectively cradling her neck. He swayed ever so gently, humming what sounded like a lullaby as his eyes blended into a sunset of yellows, oranges, and pinks.

Ichigo thought of all the paintings and ballets that came from the ashes of tragedy and what it was that made people love them. He thought that, maybe it wasn't the work itself, but the artist who crafted them. It was the ability to make beautiful things not only in spite of the darkness, but because of it. It was their ability to grow, to evolve in a cold and lightless place that was able to inspire and move the people around them.

Byakuya was that artist, and his daughter that masterpiece, and as such, it inspired more than a sense of hope or breathless passion in Ichigo, but a victory. Here, looking at Byakuya holding his child, more colorful than ever, he finally felt as if they won the war.

A tear split down his cheek and onto his taunt lips, and in passive reverence, he watched as Byakuya created art.

"There are many things I am excited to share with you, my little one," Byakuya spoke, the faint words drifting as effortlessly as the wind. "Your first steps and words. Your lineage. I want to hear you play and laugh. I want to tell you stories of all the brave men and women who made a way for you. I want to teach you how to hold a zanpakuto, but mostly, I want you to be happy, to feel my love." The baby garbled, and Byakuya caressed her blanketed covered head as he turned in a semicircle so that he was facing Ichigo's direction. "There are also many people I want you to meet. You have already met Fujita, as she will be a big part of your life. She is a bit intrusive and will try to stuff you with tea and baked goods, but it is from a place of well intent, so we allow it."

Ichigo caught a chuckle between his pursed lips, and linked fingers behind his back like a fidgety child attempting to keep their hands to themselves.

"Rukia, she is the ferices person I have ever known, both in her warrior spirit and in the weight of her heart. She will be a great role model for you."

He carefully situated the baby in his overlapped arms and her head sat tucked in the crook of his elbow. Pensively, he sighed through a humble pair of upwardly curving lips. "Then there is Ichigo," Byakuya said. "He will protect you with his life as if it was his birthright if only because he knows no other way to be. He is, for better or worse, ridiculously stubborn. He is sometimes, and at times, bordering on uncivilized, but... he is also kind, generous, a truly unique and beautiful soul. He will find hope in a situation where there is seemingly none. He will never let you lose yourself...and I love him for that." The baby reached out a hand, tiny fingers searching for something to hold. Byakuya gave her his finger with a slightly bigger smile and said, "He is also a horrible spy."

"I thought I was doing pretty good."

"Or so I let you believe," Byakuya said, lifting his head to perk a brow.

"It was worth the try." As the sun moved in the sky, his eyes slitted, stranded between half open and half closed in a want to see the way Byakuya glittered under the grainy, tangerine light that saturated the whole space, a light too direct to open his eyes to fully. "You're really beautiful when you don't think anyones watching."

The sun moved again, and Ichigo shut his eyes at the sting. They were both blind, and for a moment, there was no light or words, nothing unnecessary, just the barest of silence. It was in these pauses they took and the words they couldn't find that something more honest than sight and sound was found.

Ichigo's body subtly shook as he lumbered over to Byakuya, and he realized, for the first time, that he was actually nervous. He wiped his palms against his uniform and let out a slow breath as he guided them out of the sun's focus. "So, you're a tōchan now?" he asked in a way that he was sure betrayed the firm, confident grasp he had on Byakuya's forearm.

Byakuya pursed his lips as if to hide a smile. "I prefer chichi, but yes," he said, eyes closing and words wavering just enough for Ichigo to realize he was nervous too. "I would like to formally introduce you to someone." Byakuya stepped further into the shade of the overhang and gently removed the hooded cloth that was protecting the babies face. "This is Kuchiki Shion, the Musume of Kuchiki Byakuya and Abarai Renji."

Ichigo eyes kept Byakuya's mouth as if to make sure he heard him right before looking down at the cream skinned infant. He instinctively brushed over the patchy crimson hair, and her gray peeping eye turned up to him, making him quickly coil his fingers back in hesitation.

There was a new burning in his eyes that had nothing to do with the sun's beams. Ichigo blinked several times, trying to empty himself of the tension that filled his throat and gathered in his temples. He wasn't sure how he felt about this, but when he looked up to see Byakuya openly smiling, he smiled too, and there was no better answer than that.

"Wow. She's…

"Perfect," Byakuya said definitively, prompting Ichigo to thumb the noble's cheek and let out a raspy, "Yeah."

"Actually," Fujita said walking up from behind them, bottle in hand, "I'd say she has three chichi." She handed Ichigo the bottle, adding, "Lucky girl, she is."

"Fujita-san-"

"I only speak the truth," Fujita said, cutting off Byakuya's scolding before flashing away.

Ichigo smirked.

"I think it's better not to argue with her."

Byakuya lips curled into a more careful smirk before he added, "You are probably right."

And they left it at that, because anything else was just worthless complications. They were no longer the type of men to ruin moments with uncertainty and waste time on useless conversations. If they wanted, they could talk about grandiose titles and what they were and weren't ready for, but they knew, in the simplest of terms, what they had. They had each other, their love, and an undetermined amount of time to see where those things took them. They had much more than most.

"Would you like to feed her, Ichigo?"

Ichigo held tightly to the bottle as if it was his zanpakuto, a frightening challenge that he now had to overcome. "Sure. But It's been a long time."

"That is okay," Byakuya said, nodding in affirmation. "I have never feed an infant before. This is a chance for you to teach me something for once."

Ichigo snorted mockingly as he laid a leading hand on the dip of Byakuya's back. "Come on, let's sit. It's easy," he taunted, "something even a guy like you can do."

They sat side by side in a cross legged position, and Ichigo took the baby with the type of prudence that you reserved for only the most important of situations. "You'll want her to be sitting more in an upright position," he explained, placing the now shimming infant on his tigh. "Then you'll support her with the crook of your arm and," he picked up the bottle and placed the nipple in her mouth, which she clamped onto instantly. "Then you just have to tilt the bottle upwards. See, easy?"

Shion flapped her arms and wiggled her feet, and Ichigo bit his beaming lips. "She's going to be energetic."

"I suppose she will take after Renji in that way."

Ichigo playfully bumped shoulders with Byakuya and said, "Don't blame it all on him. I've hear stories about how you were as a kid."

"I haven't the slightest clue what you are talking about. I have always been a paragon of discipline.

Ichigo shook his head in humoured ridicule before looking more thoughtfully at the provoking spectrum of colour in Byakuya's aimless eyes. "Hey, Byakuya, do you want to see Shion?"

The noble's face tempered, but his eyes flickered wildly. "...Please."

They quickly slipped their soul ribbons around each other, and pink eclipsed everything as Byakuya looked a Shion for the first time. His lips rounded, showing emotion that existed only behind the closed doors of their company.

There was real life magic crafted by the moment. It was a mutually welcomed trance, and they wore their hospitality in the form of shared smiles. They leaned in and tasted what the occasion conjured on each other's tongue. They savored it, made it last, because they both knew that the best spells were the ones that went by the quickest.

After they pulled back, the three sat there well past sun down, and to Ichigo's surprise, somewhere in between their enjoyably silent intimacy, Byakuya fell asleep with his head leaning against the shinto doors.

"Lord Kuchiki is asleep?" Fujita asked in a hushed voice, walking up to the three. "How unlike him."

"Having a kid takes a lot out of a person. The soul lock too." He looked up to Fujita before nodding towards Shion. "Would you mind, Fujita?"

She eagerly picked up the slumbering Shion who didn't flinch in the slightest at the transfer, and Ichigo thought she slept like Renji too. Ichigo made sure Byakuya was comfortably barred against the doors before standing up.

"Dinner is ready. Should I wake Lord Kuchiki?"

Ichigo stretched and gave the slumbering noble a thoughtful glance. "I have to go somewhere real quick. Rukia's suppose to be coming over later, so I'd just let him rest before she gets here."

"He will be in a tiff if she finds him like that, but I suppose a few more minutes won't hurt." She narrowed her brows and said, "Should I ask where you're going?"

Ichigo smiled and waved off her concern. "Don't worry, Fujita, I'm not getting into trouble or anything."

She gave him a motherly look of disbelief as she continued to rock Shion. "Mhmm, well, I would hope not. We already have one child."

Ichigo snorted and hopped off the deck. "Exactly. You should spend your energy worrying about her." He gave the woman a quick over the shoulder glance before saying, "I'll be back soon."

xXx

It hadn't changed much. Other than the seasonally altered state of the Tsubaki trees and the ever growing momentous that surrounded them, the circle seemed to be frozen in time. Of course, that was what monuments were supposed to do, act as a memorial for a place and time you'll never see again.

Ichigo didn't come here often. Lately, he didn't come at all, and as shameful as that made him feel, he knew that was how it was suppose be. The hard truth that no one told you about moving on is that it takes a little bit of forgetting.

An even harder truth was that every time you come, it hurts less and less. And that is hard, not because you're attached to the scars, but to the people who gave them to you. It's like losing the last part of a person you have.

Only that wasn't the last part of Renji Ichigo had. He had Byakuya. He had every bit of life that Renji sacrificed for, and now, he had Shion. She was probably the biggest part of himself he left behind, even if he did so unwittingly.

The tapestry of keepsakes laid out in front of the 6th divisions tree were made visible by a few freshly lit candles. He picked up Renji's photo and regarded it through the low gleam reflecting on the glass. The frame was a bit weathered, wood splintering at the sides. It would need to be replaced soon.

It was sentimentality that brought him here. This wasn't Renji's resting place, and he knew enough to understand that, wherever Renji was now, he didn't care about the woeful vows given by the people he left behind.

Maybe that's why people came here, because It was a little sliver of history living amongst them, a whole other world that elapsed with their own. This was the place you went to talk to memories. This was the place where it was okay to live in the past.

Ichigo placed the picture back carefully before pressing his palms into the thick of his thighs. With nothing to distract him, he was truly alone, just him, his memories of Renji, and a one way conversation he didn't know how to start.

"I'm sorry," Ichigo blurted, the words coming out less like an apology and more like the regurgitation of something rotten that had been stirring inside of him for way too long. "I know if you could, you'd tell me there's no reason to be, but I am, so there."

His words lingered defiantly, as if Ichigo expect opposition, as if Renji might manifest right there and draw his sword in something like brotherly disapproval. At the inevitable lack thereof, Ichigo felt an empty space that was once filled by Renji's vivacity stretch and creak, as if to remind him that it was still there. God, Ichigo knew it was still there.

"You deserved more, but… I'm starting to understand that life doesn't give us what we deserve. It gives us moments."

Life, as unfair as it could be, was kinder than most people thought. It liked to open up doors for us, but we all too often walked right over the welcoming mat. Either out of fear, oblivion, or just plain bad timing, we often let our lives be defined more by the doors we walked past instead of the ones we walked through.

"It's up to us what we do with the moment. So, I guess, I'm sorry that you never got that moment, or that you did, but you didn't feel like you could take advantage of it." His voice lowered, not out of secrecy, but out of the damn emotional strain of it all. "You always thought there be more…"

"But, at the same time, I'm not sorry, and I think that's what I'm sorry about the most."

Ichigo's knees were starting to ach. He was being sucked at by mosquitos, and his stomach was starting it's painful protest for food, but that all seemed like minor annoyances when compared to the tightness of his throat, the way it burned with the truth.

"I benefited off your sacrifice. Everything I have, everything you wanted, I only have it because you died. I'd like to say I give it all back, that if there was some magical button that I could hit where I could go back before the war, before Byakuya and Shion, before you died, that I would. But... I know that's not true."

And there it was, guilt, self loathing, and sadness, all of his nastiest feeling thrown up on the floor. His mouth felt dry and tasted like sickness, but there was a healing in that. Ichigo knew that the excess was out of him now, and all that remained was the barest of truths.

And the truth was this: That the truth is conflicting, that the whole world was! It was a mass of clashing colors, a riddle that had no right answer. Everything, from the way he both mourned his friend's death yet celebrated the hereafter, all the light made from the dark, the fact Byakuya and him were together at all, it was all so senseless in both beautiful and horrifying ways, but Ichigo thought that that was how it was suppose to be. He wasn't suppose to understand why things happened the way that they did, and the world didn't owe him an explanation. It gave us it's best and worst parts, but after that, it was up to us to decide what we built out of them.

"All I can say now is thank you. I'll cherish it. I'll love Byakuya and take care of Shion in the way you would if you could, and I'll make sure Shion knows who you are. That's a promise!"

"And Kurosaki Ichigo never breaks a promise, yes?" He heard Byakuya say as he simultaneously felt arms drape across his shoulders and hands preoccupy his chest.

He leaned into that comfort, inhaled the sakura, and noted how the richness of Byakuya's voice hummed in his ear moments after his words were finished.

"How'd you know where to find me?"

"You can be surprisingly predictable at times."

Ichigo didn't think it was that, but more that Byakuya just knew him that well. He smiled, deciding not to share that thought.

The candles were out now, and all Ichigo could see in front of him were the outlines of the trees and all the past it represented. "I forget sometimes that you build this," he said. "I still think it's amazing every time I remember."

"I merely sowed the seeds," Byakuya said. "It was a group effort really."

"We needed something to bring us together."

"True." He shifted a bit and sighed into Ichigo's neck. "Sometimes I think it was both the mourning and hope of our land that grew these trees."

"Isn't everything built that way?"

"My, how sage of you."

Ichigo could feel Byakuya's smirk like hot breath wiping down his spin, and he couldn't help but to smirk back. He knew Byakuya understood what he meant, that everything we give back to the world, rather it be a tree, a piece of art, or even a scientific development was because the world once took something away. Pain inspired us. That was just another one of those wonderful contradiction.

"Yeah," he teased. "I've been spending too much time with this pompous know it all who thinks he's the next Confucius."

Byakuya hummed in amusement with lips pressed against the bend of Ichigo's neck, making Ichigo further embrace the arms holding him in the dark. They said seeing is believing, but so was feeling and hearing. So was tasting and smelling, and even in the absence of all those things, there was still hope.

"Do you see it, Ichigo," Byakuya whispered in his ear, "all the things that we will build together?"

Everyday they built things, even if it was things inside of themselves that only each other could see. Even if it was just pillars to support their already strong bong. As for the future, well…

Ichigo looked up to the ceaseless sky, boundless with possibilities, and through that dark void shimmered stars from light years away. He was looking at the future, and even if those stars exploded, their light would still reach them for years thereafter. He wouldn't know if that future he saw so blatantly was still there until he was standing amidst it, but even knowing that, there was always hope for a tomorrow.

"Yeah, I do."