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AN:

The final chapter is here! I would like to thank everyone who has read and everyone who has reviewed. It means so much!

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Stage Five: Commitment

"It appears Lord Byakuya Kuchiki has discovered fucking. What can I say?" Hidetada murmured in a hushed voice as he escorted Lord Matsumura, a wizened Kuchiki elder and the great uncle to Byakuya, down a corridor.

"Do you really think it is serious?" the elder asked, tilting his head toward the servant to ensure their privacy.

Hidetada gave a casual shrug of his shoulders. "It is hard to say."

"If it's just a stage, I say let the boy have fun."

Hidetada's brows shot up at the unspoken sentiments begging to be asked. "If it isn't just a stage?"

The servant's pragmatism struck a cacophonic chord with the Kuchiki elder; his expression soured, and his top lip curled in repulsion. "Let us not consider the implications of such a circumstance, shall we? There are many fine girls – girls with breeding – that Byakuya will take to should he extricate himself long enough from his obligations to notice."

Silence hung like a heavy wet blanket over the pair as they continued down the passageway. Both men were thoughtfully pondering the possibility that their precious Lord had fallen for a street-rat-cum-courtesan. It was clear to them that the appropriate steps would have to be taken and soon if the young leader had indeed fallen in with bad company. Lord Matsumura, especially, was not thrilled at the prospect of Byakuya snubbing suitable females out of some strangely felt attachment to this courtesan.

Breathing a deep sigh, Matsumura gave the servant a furtive sidelong glance as they neared the drawing room. "Do you know much of this Hisana?" His voice dropped two octaves when he spoke her name as if it left a bad taste in his mouth.

Hidetada perked at the question. A small half-smile thinned the servant's lips. He shook his head. "She's from the Seventy-Eighth Rukon District. She is also searching for a lost family member. A sister, mayhap?" The question was obviously directed to himself for Hidetada's eyes rolled up to the ceiling, and he began stroking his neatly groomed goatee as he attempted to recall the details.

Matsumura handed the servant a monetary token for his troubles. "Hidetada, please, do not hesitate in keeping me abreast of any unfavorable developments."

Hidetada plucked the coin from the elder, and with a flick of his wrist concealed his gain in a secret compartment of his robes. "Of course, Lord Matsumura. I will notify you of any interesting updates."

Matsumura acknowledged the servant's pact with a sly nod of his head. "I hope she is nothing more than a good fuck as you suggested," the old man said before slipping into the drawing room for the monthly Family meeting.

Hidetada bowed low and held the position until Lord Matsumura had disappeared behind the shoji door. Inhaling a deep breath, the servant straightened his posture, turned on his heel, and went to fetch the Lord of the manor.

Byakuya Kuchiki was tucked in his writing room at the back of the house when Hidetada arrived. Kneeling in front of the door, the servant tapped the wooden frame with his knuckles. "Master," he murmured in a quiet voice.

"Yes," Byakuya called from his desk.

Hidetada gently drew the door back, and bowed deeply on the floor. "The members have assembled; they are awaiting your arrival."

Byakuya gave the servant a passing glance, and nodded his head. "Very well," he said, and with quiet resignation he placed his brush down with a crisp "thunk".

Once Byakuya was firmly on the other side of the room, Hidetada slid the door closed and scurried to get to his feet and trail after his master. It took him a few moments to match Byakuya's long strides, but as he did he was quick to gain the attention of his Lord.

"What did Matsumura say?" Byakuya's voice was clipped and even.

Hidetada quirked a brow at his master's perceptiveness. "He questioned me regarding your interests in potential ladies at court." The servant's eyes remained faithfully trained on Byakuya's face. He observed the muscles in his master's jaws clench at the mention of court ladies and the allusion of marriage.

"Was that all?" Byakuya said; his voice betraying his inner disgust at the old man's prying.

"He appeared particularly interested in the relationship you have with a certain courtesan."

Byakuya's cadence slowed at the mention of his relationship with Hisana. His posture, if possible, became straighter, and his eyes reflexively narrowed at the perceived breech of privacy. "What did you tell him?"

"That it was of little consequence." That response garnered a stern look from Byakuya. Hidetada was unsure if it was an expression of displeasure or boredom. If he was a betting man, however, he would have banked his yearly salary on the former.

"Very well," Byakuya stated in his patented deadpan.

So it began, he thought ruefully to himself.

It was only a matter of time before their relationship was scrutinized by the intrusive eyes of his family. Nothing occurred in the House of Kuchiki without the approval of a committee. And, apparently, his family was campaigning harder than ever for him to take a bride and procreate for the sake of the lineage.

It was his duty.

And marriage was the only obstacle between him and his goal of assuming the responsibilities of the Sixth Division. He would need a wife and heir before the family would feel comfortable with him taking any post in the Gotei 13 proper.

Wordlessly, he entered the dimly lit drawing room.

- - - -

It was late. It was so late, in fact, the night was quickly bleeding into the next day. It was a precarious position – those hours between days. The dark sky slowly lightened with each passing "tick" of the clock.

The "between" hours were when she came. She visited him intermittently. At times he saw her every night; other times he was lucky to see her at all. And she always came in the same familiar way. She would cross through the garden to his private quarters, and she would lightly tap three times at his door.

And every time he received her.

Some nights they indulged their baser instincts. Some nights they sat quietly together; he at his desk working on whatever needed his attention at the time, and she lightly strumming his late mother's weathered shamisen. She listened to his drafts when he needed a careful inspection, and he watched her dance to the sounds of water lapping against the rocks in the garden outside.

Their relationship was a calm one. There was little in the way of obligations or expectations. They simply were – existing as separate entities that occasionally crossed paths and shared with the other. But, Byakuya was growing uneasy with their loose arrangement. He was quick to grow accustomed to her presence when her visits were frequent, and he was easily unsettled by her long absences.

It was always when he was nearing the point of finding her nonappearance unbearable that she returned like some sadist nightingale.

This was one of those nights.

Missing her companionship, Byakuya found it increasingly hard to concentrate on the forms he needed to fill. He had to write an opinion on a ruling handed down by the Central Chambers as it regarded the Thirteenth Division. He was always trying to find appeals methods and remedies for whatever infraction went down at the Thirteenth it seemed. It was his job, after all, to be a liaison between the Central 46 Chambers and the Gotei 13. It was mostly for historical purposes as his family kept after Soul Society's archives, but he always seemed to find himself filing appeals on behalf of the Thirteenth Division. He attributed the increase in workload to the Thirteenth's Vice Captain, Kaien Shiba. Detestable as Shiba was in Byakuya's opinion, the noble did seem to share Captain Ukitake's bleeding heart brand of right-and-wrong.

Byakuya shook his head at the mere thought of Kaien. He knew it was getting late when all he could do was distract himself from thinking about the ins-and-outs of the Thirteenth. Plopping down his writing brush, he inhaled a deep breath and closed his eyes. The fresh scent of ink and dusty paper perfumed the humid air. It was the aroma of work.

Reluctantly, he opened his eyes, and glanced over to the door leading out to the garden. For a few rather lengthened moments, his gaze stayed on that door. It was slightly ajar – enough so that he could catch the moonbeams as they danced on the choppy water of the diverted river that flowed through his private garden.

'It must be windy,' he thought to himself as he observed the waves. 'I hope it does not rain,' he mused. His mind tiredly remembered an old myth he had learned when he was much younger. 'Doesn't rain separate lovers?'

His eyes widened at the latter thought – more specifically the last word of the latter thought: Lovers. His brows knit together as the word carved itself into his mind's eye. Wearily, he shook his head, and pushed the thought aside for the time being. It was far too late for him to be playing word games with himself.

Yet, his gaze remained glued to the door. Upon feeling the chill of a cool breeze playfully ghost across his face, his lips thinned into a small half-hearted smile. Instinctively, he stood and moved to the door, pulling it back before she had the chance to reach it.

Still moving up the stairs to the room, Hisana glanced up the moment the small rectangle of light radiating from the door widened. She offered him a warm albeit weary smile and bowed. "You were expecting me?" she teased, gliding across the threshold.

As she moved into his room, Byakuya caught the unmistakable odor of Rukongai when she passed. She had been wandering the streets looking for her missing sister again. And judging by the downcast look in her eyes, he could tell her search had been fruitless.

Without uttering a word, he neared her and slowly began helping her out of her haori. "Are you not uncomfortable in this heat?" he asked, draping the garment over his arm.

She glanced up at him, and shook her head. "I suppose I haven't been feeling myself lately."

He leaned down and gently brushed his lips against her forehead. She felt a little warm to the touch, but it did not seem to be any great cause for concern. She had, after all, been hoofing it across Soul Society on a sticky summer night.

"I feel fine," she assured him, having astutely read his motives for the kiss.

He hastily folded her haori and set it on the desk. Just before he had the chance to turn he felt the unmistakable pressure two arms made as they wrapped themselves around his abdomen. He paused, a little apprehensive of the closeness. He doubted he would ever grow accustomed to being casually touched much less embraced. But he did not pull away even though every fiber in his body stiffened at the feeling of her body pressed firmly against his back.

There was no expectation of sex -- no promise of sensuality – with that hug. It was an inscrutable act to his mind. He was sure it was meant to be comforting, and he stayed, hoping that for her sake it was.

"I'm sorry," she murmured into the soft fabric of his kimono.

And he wondered, briefly, what exactly it was she was apologizing for. Assuming it was for the embrace, he rested his hands against her arms, and bowed his head.

"I'm not normally this clingy," she said to herself.

He turned to offer her an obliging glance.

She looked up into his softened features and smiled.

Observing her – scrutinizing every line and contour of her countenance – Byakuya felt his brows furrow and his eyes narrow. Confusion was not an expression his features naturally assumed, but he had a sinking feeling that she was hiding something under that smile.

Was there something wrong? Reflexively, he shook his head at the thought. Of course there was something wrong with their current arrangement! Even he felt the strain. But, he just assumed that it was an unrequited feeling. And he wondered how much longer she would haunt his manor in those late hours.

She reluctantly peeled her body from his, and wandered over to the garden door. Her hands steady and calm as she pulled it back to reveal the nightscape. "It is so nice tonight," she said wistfully; her voice hung so low in that thick air that he had to strain to hear her words over the dull roar of the river.

"Are you hungry?" he said, watching her intensely. She appeared gaunt since the last time he saw her.

Folding her arms against her chest, Hisana merely shook her head. "I am fine."

He frowned at the expression. She employed it so often and with so little thought he was beginning to wonder if it was her defense mechanism. She had been roaming the winding streets of the Rukon Districts before returning to Seireitei. That act in itself required some expenditure of reiatsu; she had to be famished.

"I am," he murmured loud enough for her to hear.

Hisana glanced over her shoulder, and met his gaze. 'Just as piercing as ever,' she mused, tilting her head to the side as she stared into those steely eyes.

"It is late," she responded. Calling the servants with her there would not be very prudent, she reasoned. "I could leave."

He shook his head. "We could go out."

Her jaw slackened at the suggestion. Her mind was immediately pulled in two directions at once. Her logical self rationalized that it was too late – all restaurants and vendors would be closed at that hour. Her more emotive inner voice, however, nearly had a conniption at the idea of the two of them being seen anywhere besides the Peony House. It would be too risky. They were supposed to keep a low profile, considering his status and his family's expectations. Gallivanting around Seireitei would certainly raise more than just a few eyebrows, and cause much stress for him in the long run.

"It is late," she repeated after the pregnant pause. "Everything would be closed."

A knowing lopsided grin thinned a corner of his lips. "Not everything."

She turned to a three-quarters position. A well tweezed brow perked, and she smirked at his response. "Even so," she began evenly, "there would be consequences for you."

He shut his eyes, and sighed. "No."

Hisana took a step in his direction. Her lips parted and her eyes widened, given her visage a look of pure horror. "Whatever do you mean?"

Byakuya's eyes lowered to the floor. The warmth in his face melted into an expression of calm repose as he considered his response. "They know."

She was the first to flinch. Unsure of what to say she just blinked back her shock. "But we were so careful." Her countenance darkened as a wave of contrition for their actions took over. She shook her head. "What is going to happen?"

He lifted his head and eye-line to see her look of dejection. "Nothing."

Her eyes flitted up to meet his. "What?"

He shook his head reassuringly. "Nothing is going to happen. So, come with me." He extended his hand, and nodded for her to take it.

Hisana obliged, giving a shallow bow as she did so. "Where are we going this late at night?"

He looked askance; his brows quirked upwards at the wavering sound of her voice. "You'll see," he said, turning his gaze straight ahead.

Hisana could have kicked herself for her thoughtlessness. It was so obvious after all. Why she hadn't been able to figure out where it was they were going was a testament to her weariness. (Or so she would like to have thought.)

'Of course he would bring me here. Some place where he would have absolute control over everything,' she mused, shaking her head at her lack of insightfulness as the two entered one of the Kuchiki owned and managed restaurants.

It was lovely, but that was to be expected, Hisana thought to herself as the two moved further inside. She had never dined there even despite her years as a courtesan, but she had heard it was expertly run and decorated. The rumors did not disappoint.

The staff was in the process of cleaning it, she observed. The lights were dimmed low, and the main entrance was locked tight. Byakuya had led her to a side entrance.

His very presence set the employees into a wild frenzy. No longer was their duty to close shop; it was to serve and please their benefactor.

Hisana had never heard so many "Lord Kuchikis" and so much groveling in her entire life: "Yes, Lord Kuchiki." "Whatever you want, Lord Kuchiki!" "Whatever will please Lord Kuchiki will please us!"

She wasn't sure whether she wanted to laugh or be disgusted with the sudden and glib outpouring of diffidence to a single soul. If they could have brownnosed anymore she was certain it would have counted as sexual harassment.

But, Byakuya seemed to pay the attention little heed as the two of them were seated in a cavernous banquette room. 'He's probably used to it,' Hisana thought to herself. She glimpsed him assuming a seat right beside her, and she smiled. The table was large and there were so many prying eyes, yet he did not hesitate in his decision.

Feeling her eyes on him, he turned and glanced down at the menu placed neatly in front of her.

Hisana quickly followed his gaze, and blushed at her obliviousness. "Oh, yes," she murmured. Shakily, she plucked the sheet of paper from the lacquered wood, and she examined it. She could have died.

The items were all delicate and expensive. 'Of course it would have to be fine dining,' she chastised herself. 'Why did I submit?'

She stared blankly down at the menu. Her heart fluttered, and her stomach felt like it had knotted into a bow inside her. Anxiety bathed her, penetrating every sinew and capillary in her body. She didn't know what to do. It was as if she had never eaten a proper dinner before in her life. And as she thought on it, she supposed she never had. At least, not in front of someone. At the dinners she had attended, she was usually acting as a courtesan so she did not eat very much, and the men always ordered for her. (She assumed most of them thought her illiterate given her class.)

Astutely reading her disquiet, Byakuya gently took her right hand, which was resting in her lap, and squeezed it.

Feeling the sudden warmth and pressure against her, she looked up from the page, and forced a nervous smile. She wanted to say something. She wanted to tell him that all the items on the menu looked too enticing for her to pick from. She wanted to compliment him on the ambience and the attentiveness of the staff. But, no matter how hard she tried to clear her head long enough to form a cohesive thought, she could not. She was so unnerved, and she was not quite sure why.

After filling both the water and tea containers, the female waitress flashed an easy smile and perked up. "May I take your orders, or do you require more time, Lord Kuchiki?"

He turned his head to acknowledge the bubbly waitress. "Kaiseki for both of us."

She beamed at the choice and bowed her head. "Excellent choice, Lord Kuchiki. You won't be disappointed." After giving another bow, the woman quickly padded out of the room.

"I hope you didn't mind…" Byakuya began but was quickly silenced by a shake of Hisana's head.

"No. I don't think I could have chosen an item from that menu." Once the words escaped her lips, she immediately cupped her mouth with regret. Her eyes widened, and her gaze flew over to him. As she expected, he sat looking rather aghast; his brows lifted to his hairline, and his eyes widened to the size of half dollars.

"Did you find it offensive?" he asked in a sheepish tenor.

Hisana began shaking her head before he even got the question out. "No. No. I didn't mean it that way." She glanced down at her sitting mat and grimaced. "Everything looked so enticing. I couldn't choose," she added, squeezing his hand.

When she finally teased what little nerve she could find out of her, she glanced up and smiled warmly as their eyes locked. "Thank you for bringing me here. Lord Kuchiki, you are very kind."

His jaws clenched at her words, and his gaze trailed to his lap. Searching for another topic, he quickly countered his diffidence: "I looked for your name today in the recruits log for the Spiritual Arts Academy." His voice lowered, and his breath was heavy as he spoke the words. He inclined his head to read her expression, and for a brief moment he felt unsure of his motives for revealing that fact. It just came out so naturally. "I could not find it."

Hisana merely smiled, and averted her gaze to the table. "I suppose you wouldn't have," she said cryptically.

"What do you mean?"

"Hisana was not the name under which I enlisted." Her lugubrious smile brightened as she gazed into his face. "Hisana was the name I assumed once I arrived at the Peony House."

A look of recollection crossed his visage at her explanation. It was a silent, "Of course! How could I have overlooked that?"

She closed her eyes, and her smile faded. "The girl that enlisted in the Academy those many years ago no longer exists," she said somberly.

Byakuya's lips parted as he quietly observed her sorrow. His mind raced to find the right words to ease her sadness. But, try as he might, the words that came to him were slippery and hard to pin down into any coherent sentiment. All he could do was emote his apology, and hope that she could understand.

"Don't look so contrite," she said at length, "That was a long time ago. You couldn't have known. Let us digress."

He nodded his head approvingly.

Smiling wolfishly, Hisana gave him an almost predatory stare. "What is it Byakuya Kuchiki desires most?"

His brows lifted, and for the second time that night he appeared taken aback.

She laughed at his discomfiture. "Come now. It is only fair for you to divulge your main wish in life since you know mine."

"And so we are clear," Byakuya began, clearing his voice midway through, "what is Hisana's goal?"

She smiled brightly at his expense. "Isn't that obvious? To find my sister."

Byakuya inhaled a deep breath and held it in his chest until he could bear the cold sting of it no longer. "I see," he murmured to himself.

"Let me guess," she said, knowingly staving off the heavy silence that was lurking on the periphery, "you wish to become a captain of one of the thirteen squads?" She looked rather self-satisfied with her guess. A large grin split her lips, and her eyes radiated a playful gleam.

He paused to observe her. His head involuntarily tipped toward his right shoulder, and his lips parted. He was certain her guess was a coy attempt to lighten the mood; he doubted that she actually thought it was his goal, and he smirked at her sudden ebullience.

"I suppose I am rather transparent."

Hisana gaped at his answer. She appeared genuinely surprised; her eyes were open wide, her jaw slackened, and her breathing slowed. "I," she began, obviously trying to construct a lucid sentence in her head but failing. "I had no idea."

A small smile thinned his lips. Averting his gaze to the table, Byakuya gave a sheepish nod of his head.

She snorted a small giggle, and glanced up to the ceiling. "Why don't you?" she asked. She observed him with a gentle gaze as if she regarded him and his desires with the utmost sincerity.

He stared into the middle distance as he considered her question. It was simple – deceptively so. And his reasons were muddled and illogical in the most intimate of ways as these things often were. He shook his head before glimpsing her from the corner of his eye. "Duty."

She tilted her head to the side, and silently implored him to expound further. When he did not, she tightened her grip on his hand.

"I have certain duties to perform in a particular sequence before I can assume military responsibilities."

She nodded her head, having a good idea which "duties" needed performing before he could attain his goal. "You need a wife and scion?"

The upward inflection gave her response the guise of being a question, but it was really an observation. Byakuya, however, nodded his head in reply. "Yes."

She watched him intently. "Why don't you marry?"

His whole body straightened and tensed at the thought. It was as if Hisana had poured a bucket of icy water over his head with that single question. He wasn't sure how, exactly, to answer her. He never had a compelling enough response even when his family grilled him on the matter. "I don't know," he finally admitted. His gaze instinctively lowered to meet hers.

He appeared conflicted – deeply at odds with his beliefs and feelings toward that specific obligation – and Hisana could feel it. His eyes were dark and troubled despite his otherwise stoic façade. And she could not help but wonder if her presence contributed to his turmoil over the matter. She was a distraction to his normal functioning as a noble – that much she was certain. Their illicit affair would have to end – she knew it, and she suspected that he was aware as well. They came from two very separate spheres of life, and nothing was going to bridge their two worlds together. Nothing.

'So why are you here?' Hisana blinked in the face of the question. She did not have an answer, and she wonder if she ever would. This was not the sort of thing that made good, rational sense. If it had then she suspected that they would have never met in the first place. Bad logic and strange happenstance forced them together. Perhaps there was also a touch of animal magnetism underlying their relationship.

'Indeed… magnetism,' she thought dreamily to herself as she inclined her head until she was a hairsbreadth from his lips. She closed her eyes the moment she felt his breath skate across her face.

Feeling the warmth of his mouth against hers, Hisana reached up and placed her hands lightly against his shoulders to brace herself. Her breathing slowed the instant she felt his fingers threading in her hair.

Gently, he tipped her head back, and deepened the kiss. His mouth searching against hers; she merely followed his pace. Passively, she let him guide her; she let him take control.

A loud knock at the door, however, sent both spiraling back to reality. Quickly, they untangled themselves from each other in time to see the waitress peeking into the room from behind the door. "Dinner is served," she chirped, balancing an antique tray in her arms.

Byakuya, looking as guilty as Hisana felt, acknowledged the woman with a slight nod of his head.

"I know that usually these items are brought one by one, but it seemed that you desired your privacy, Lord Kuchiki. I did not thinking popping in every five seconds would be appropriate, so I brought the soup and dishes together. I hope I interpreted the situation to your liking, Lord Kuchiki."

Byakuya nodded, refusing to look very hard at the waitress.

"Good. Here you go. If you need anything don't hesitate to call on us," she said, placing the eight dishes down on the table.

Hisana hungrily took in every detail of the meal. There were two bowls of miso soup for the both of them. There were two separate fish dishes, two vegetable dishes, and two bowls of rice. The ingredients were perfectly matched for the season – freshly picked and harvested just for that particular moment.

And the smell was summery.

Hisana realized just how silly it was to think a dish could smell of summer, but it did. And it made her feel warm and at ease. So contented, in fact, that she could not help but close her eyes and breathe it all in – revel the moment. When she opened her eyes, she was met with an inquisitive-looking Byakuya. His eyes begged the question: "Is it to your liking?"

She flashed a broad closed-lipped smile. Her eyes twinkled in the soft lighting of the room. "It looks too good to eat."

He shyly averted his gaze back down to the table. "I should bring you here during the appropriate hours so you can truly enjoy the experience."

Hisana's smile diminished, and her gaze lowered. For some reason, those words carried a heavy weight; they sank in the air, and struck a somber string in her heart. 'He can't do that,' she thought, finally ascertaining the reason why she felt so down by the statement. 'It would be inappropriate… It is too private.'

She inhaled a deep breath. 'This is risky enough. What if the wait staff is composed of big mouthed gossip-mongers?'

"Are you feeling well?" Byakuya asked, giving her a cursory glance.

Hisana nodded her head, and turned to meet his gaze. "Yes," she said meekly, "what would make you think…?"

Before she had the chance to finish the thought, Byakuya interrupted: "You look pale." He appeared sincere if not a touch worried.

She swallowed, and turned her attention back to the bowls of food. Everything was so perfect. Even the containers were a marvel to behold – antiques that must have been handed down through many ages. 'So, why am I feeling so unnerved?' she wondered.

"I suppose I'm just not very hungry," she lied. She was very hungry. She had flash-stepped to Rukongai and back, and in the process she had expended a great deal of reiatsu – reiatsu that she had no hope of sating by the meager meals served at the Peony House. However, the gnawing at her stomach came second to the surge of guilt she felt at the thought of consuming the rich food.

"Eat," he commanded with his even and authoritarian voice.

She instinctively straightened her posture, and reached for her chopsticks at the request. Balancing the thin black-lacquered utensils between her fingers, her gaze drifted between the rustic bowls of food. 'So many choices,' she thought nervously to herself.

Mindlessly, she started with the fish, savoring every bite. "It is good," she murmured softly

Byakuya eyed her with an almost imperceptible sidelong glance.

"The summer festival is drawing closer," she said in between mouthfuls of food.

He gave a measured nod of his head. "Yes. Will you be dancing?"

Hisana smiled into her bowl of rice. "Yes," she said, nodding.

He turned to observe her with a more scrutinizing gaze. He could not discern whether or not she was enthused by the event. She was a talented dancer, that much he could not deny, but for some strange reason he took umbrage at the mere thought of her displaying her talents in front of others. It was absurd, he often reassured himself. She was a courtesan; she shared her talents with other men; it was her job.

But when he was with her, he never entertained such thoughts. That is, until right then.

He wasn't sure he was comfortable regarding her in the context of her work. He, however, didn't know why it was beginning to bother him. It had started as this nettling musing in the back of his mind. Over time, the nettling gradually grew into a scratching in his brain; it continued to aggrandize until he could no longer neglect it, and all he was left with was a feeling of great unease. Illogical unease as it was.

Exhaling a deep breath, he quietly retraced the current conversation. "Good," was the only response that he could think of to say.

Hisana silently noted his disquiet, and their eyes locked. "Will you be attending?"

Before he could muster the answer, his head bobbed up and down. "Yes."

"Who will be your consort?" she asked coyly. Her eyes squinted up into a sly gaze, and her lips parted in a toothy grin.

Byakuya's face blanched. All the color drained from him, and his features tightened into a look of pained austerity. "I have not put much forethought into it."

She chuckled. "Don't look so embarrassed, Lord Kuchiki! Any woman would be ecstatic to have you for an escort."

His eyes flitted up to meet hers at the statement.

Hisana reached up and gently caressed the side of face. "Modest." She would have said more if her tongue could have wrapped itself around the words formed in her head. But alas! it was as hesitant as her heart.

"I could invite you."

Her cheeks reddened at the sentiment. "Lord Kuchiki," she began; her voice low and throaty as if she was imploring him to rescind the hypothetical offer.

He placed his hand on top of hers. His gaze unyielding – probing hers for sincerity. "But you'll be dancing."

She nodded. "And even if I were free, it would be wrong. I'd just be a distraction from your goal."

Her words stung him, and he instantly regretted ever confiding in her. His fingers closed tightly around her hand.

He appeared distant to her now. His gaze had become removed and piercing as if he was not looking at her but through her. Lowering her head, Hisana searched for an easy save. But she had nothing. 'I suppose that is the problem,' she mused grimly to herself, 'I have nothing.'

The rest of the dinner was taken in silence. A heavy sort of silence that squelched any hope for communication. Once they returned to his estate, the two fell into a familiar routine.

Morning came with sadistic certainty. Blinding rays of light shone down into the room, illuminating it in a fiery brilliance. And no matter how hard he tried to escape the burn of the sunrays, Byakuya had no choice but to submit.

Flinging his arm out to the side, he felt the cold tension of shock still every muscle in his body into place. "Hisana?" he murmured, unsure of whether or not he was still dreaming.

She was never by his side when he woke. She usually left before he drifted to sleep. On rare occasions when he did fall asleep before bidding her a proper farewell, she was long gone when he awoke.

But, there she was. Her eyes were firmly shut, and her breathing slow and quite. Unconsciously, Byakuya reached to touch her, fearing his eyes had betrayed him.

She stirred under his touch. Her eyes opened, and through hazy vision her gaze found his. "Lord Byakuya," she said in a meek voice.

His eyes widened at the form of address she had used. He was quite unaccustomed to her using the familiar. In truth, very few people he knew referred to him by his given name. But, the more his mind replayed her voice speaking his name, the more he liked it. It was perverse, he chastised himself.

Mindlessly, he drew closer to her. Their noses were only a hairsbreadth away – a tantalizing hairsbreadth away. Hisana beamed up at him.

She wore the tussled barely-there look well, he noted. Before he was certain of his next action, his lips twitched. "I could alleviate you of your debt."

She squinted her eyes, and blinked several times as if she were not sure she was conscious. "What?" she grumbled, incredulous of her own capacity for comprehension so freshly awake.

"Your debt at the Peony House."

She blinked once more, and then opened her eyes wide, hoping she could somehow shake off her grogginess. "You would purchase my debt?" she asked. She scrutinized his visage, wondering if his expression would darken had she indeed misunderstood the intent of his sentence.

"Yes."

"Why?"

He appeared nonplussed for a moment. "So, you can be free."

She wanted to jolt up into a seated position, but she couldn't. He was hovering over her. Instead of colliding into him like a fear stricken animal, Hisana reached up and cupped his face in her hands. Shaking her head, she smiled somberly at his offer. "And then?" she asked.

It was a reasonable question, he had to admit. Hisana was nothing if not pragmatic. If he freed her from the House, what would become of her? She had nothing to call her own. She would be homeless, and forced back to the slums of Inuzuri. She would be in the same position she had fled from those many years ago. And she would be in no shape to care for another even if she found her sister.

Ascertaining a solution, he said, "You could return to the Academy."

Hisana smiled gently at his response. "That was many years ago, dear Lord Kuchiki. I'm sure I am not a fit enough candidate for entry into the Spiritual Arts Academy."

He slightly shook his head. "You will be accepted. You have enough reiatsu, and I will see to it."

"You have done enough for me already, Lord Kuchiki. I could not ask this of you."

"There is no need to ask. I am offering."

"Then, I could not possibly take anymore than I already have." Her hands trailed to his neck where her fingers tangled in his inky tresses.

"Consider it," he said in a commanding tone.

Hisana could only widen her smile. She was sure that he was not a man who was used to hearing the word, "No," but at that moment it was the only word carved into her mind. She wondered, however, how long it would take for her resolve to slowly atrophy. It was tempting, she could not deny. She would finally be free to pursue a life she could build for herself and her sister. Then, she could be happy.

"Would I ever see you again?" The words had already left her lips before she had the chance to catch herself.

Byakuya leaned down, fully prepared to kiss her, when he heard the door to his room clack back. Every fiber in his body tensed, and an icy chill trailed up and down his spine when he glanced back to find Hidetada seated behind the threshold to his door.

Hisana's head shot up, and she tried with all her might to glimpse the intruder but to no avail. She could not see through Byakuya. But the sting of diffidence was all the same, she supposed. Exposure was still exposure. She just hoped for his stake that whoever was outside the door was a trusted something and not a Kuchiki elder.

"My sincerest apologies, Lord Kuchiki. I will come at more convenient hour," the servant said, placing a heavy emphasis on the word "convenient." Hidetada took his precious time in closing the door as well -- making sure that his disapprobation was understood loud and clear by the Master.

Hearing the sharp sound of wood meeting wood, Hisana was quick to sit up. A heavy blanket was pulled tightly across her chest as she reached for her yukata. Shrugging the garment on, her gaze drifted to Byakuya where it stayed. He was also sitting up on the futon. His back was facing her.

"I'm…"

"Don't," he interrupted abruptly. "There is no need."

She nodded absently to herself.

The two dressed in silence. Neither even spared the other a glance.

It was when Hisana bent to pick up her sandals and moved to slide open the garden door that the oppressive quiet was broken. "My offer still stands," Byakuya said from behind her.

Hisana straightened at the sound of his voice. Her hand was mere inches from the door, and she hesitated. "Thank you, Lord Kuchiki."

And she was gone in a flash.

- - - -

Days went by and Byakuya was comforted only by the constant badgering of his family to find a suitable mate. The latter distinction – suitable – had only been tacked on after the incident with Hidetada. Before then his family had not felt the need to place qualifiers on any hypothetical wives-to-be.

There was almost a sense of scorn at his dilatoriness. His family expected so much from him in terms of how he carried himself. He had always been rebuked for his hotheaded manner. He had been slapped into place by (at the time) stronger more self-assured members of his family. Now, that he was the head of the Kuchiki Clan, the pressure intensified. The noose of obligation only tightened that much each passing day.

To avoid the burn of his family's eyes, he withdrew into himself. His exterior became icy, aloof, until he was sure they could find no chink in his armor. He carried himself with authority, and he shrouded himself in a stern and decisive aura.

But as much as he wished that he was free from the meddling influences of his family, he was not. Their opinion and words weighed heavily in his thoughts. He did need to find a mate. That much was certain in his mind. In order to assume full responsibility as head of the Kuchiki family, he would have to take on the mantle of Sixth Division Captain. He had the skill to pass the Captaincy test; he was absolute in his certainty on this point.

It was the prerequisite of procuring a wife and heir that eluded him…

If only the court ladies weren't so appalling. Or, if only he didn't find them so appalling. Most of them were gossipy power-hungry piranhas. Cloaked in the vestments of nobility, Byakuya was of the opinion that these females were vulgar at their core like a rotten fruit. They had taken no time to cultivate themselves; their only care was on the shell of life. They were beautiful and coveted beauty; they were wealthy and lusted after wealth; they wielded power and thus only wanted more.

And, Byakuya was not of the mind to satiate any lustful woman's desires. Perhaps that was the root of his problem with marriage. He was stubborn and prone to bouts of contrariness. He was also enamored by another.

A small uneven grin thinned his lips as his thoughts went to her.

It was futile, he reminded himself. He had scared her away. No, he had pushed her away with his offer of freedom. At first, he thought her mad and ungrateful for not pouncing on the opportunity. Then, his more rational and less hurt self began to ponder the reason for her absence and reticence on the matter. She was accustomed, half a century in the making, to her current status. Even if it was deplorable, it was better than living starved and half-naked in the slums of the Rukon Districts. Being a courtesan was better than being left to rot and die in Inuzuri. She was fed, clothed, and had some sort of purpose. Most importantly, she was safe and alive at the Peony House.

Anything outside of the Peony House was imbued with inherent risks. She could fail out of the Academy. She may not be able to secure an appointment after graduation. It was six years of grueling studies. Six years of putting her hopes of finding her sister on hold if she wished to succeed as a potential candidate for the Gotei 13.

His proposal had terrified her, and he found her reaction logical. Even if it was a twisted logic.

Staring into his private garden from his room, he wondered if he would see her before the festival. Part of him knew he would not, but part of him held out hope.

He did not see her in the days before the festival. He did not see her during the first two days of the festival.

He dutifully escorted the females handpicked by his family, and he dutifully attended every event that included female dancers. No matter how hard he scrutinized the heavily bedizened women, he could not find what he was looking for.

It was on the third and final day of the festival that he saw her. It was late. Night had finally settled over the festivities, and there she stood. Her hair was pinned up with decorative bobbles. She was dressed in fine silk with a bamboo print. She was stargazing.

Her head was tilted up to the firmament, and from the angle he spotted her he could see that her face was not painted like some of the other courtesans and female entertainers. She appeared to be alone, and for the briefest of moments he wondered if she had the night off.

Before reason or etiquette could strike him down, he quietly extricated himself from the lovely Lady Niitabe. She was so busy chatting with a party of fellow nobles that she did not even notice Byakuya's sudden absence.

"The fireworks will begin shortly."

Hisana turned at the sound of the voice. A pleasant expression creased her face, and she regarded Byakuya with a slight nod of her head. "Good evening, Lord Kuchiki."

He frowned at her stiffness. It was as if a sudden barrier separated the two as he neared. There was a coldness about her – a formality that had never been there before. "Good evening, Hisana," he murmured in kind.

When he took to her side, he could feel the tension between them begin to dissipate. She seemed more at ease to speak with him close beside her. "I apologize for my absence," she said in a hushed voice.

Byakuya turned his head to the side so he could get a better look at her. She seemed earnest, but he could not help but sense there was something else. She had censored herself, he was sure.

Hisana met his gaze, and held it for what felt like hours. "Word has spread," she whispered.

He lifted his head, and swallowed. Hard. "I see," he murmured, his voice catching on the breath he was sucking in.

Turning her gaze to the middle distance, Hisana's eyes widened, and her breath hitched in her chest. "Business has picked up," she said; this time her voice was louder, and took less time to comprehend.

Byakuya nodded. His expression darkened, and his eyeline lifted to the dark heavens in anticipation of the fireworks display. "Have you considered my offer from before?"

"Yes. I will have an answer for you tonight. If you do not mind?"

His gaze shot over to her. "Y-Ye-Yes," he stuttered. Realizing his mistake, he quickly moved to redress his statement. "I mean, no, I do not mind."

She smiled sweetly. "Good." She looked on him with great fondness. "I must be going." Hisana nodded in the direction of the crowd that had gathered to watch the display.

Byakuya was about to bow his goodbye when his muscles were stayed by the abrasive sound of a thick Rukongai dialect.

"Well, well, I had no idea that you knew a Kuchiki!"

Hisana regarded the intruder with utmost respect. "Vice Captain Ichimaru," she said mid-bow.

"Vice Captain," Byakuya said belatedly, "good evening."

"It is, isn't it?" Gin said. His perpetual smile was still perfectly intact as he neared the pair.

"I see Captain Aizen has released you from your duties for the night?"

Gin merely smiled in Byakuya's direction.

"Vice Captain, I had no idea you were familiar with Lord Kuchiki," Hisana said, hoping to lighten the mood.

"Everyone here knows Byakuya Kuchiki; he's famous!" Gin hissed, drawing out the last syllable longer than necessary.

Byakuya watched the Vice Captain with an air of indifference, but Hisana could sense that he was unnerved by Ichimaru's very sudden presence.

"Since we all seem acquainted with each other, why don't we share a drink?" Gin punctuated his familiarity with Hisana by grabbing her arm in what she could only interpret as an act of "affection".

Byakuya's expression fell from disinterest to repugnance. Even though Ichimaru was clearly attempting to shower his escort with some variety of eagerness, his interest was focused solely on Byakuya. And Byakuya was no fool; he knew when he was being sized up.

Hisana was right. Word had indeed spread throughout Seireitei. What a strange way for it to manifest? he mused. To his knowledge he had no beef with Gin Ichimaru. He had virtually no contact with the Fifth Division. Aizen ran a tight ship so there were few if any disciplinary actions taken on members of his squad.

"I'm sure Lady Niitabe wouldn't mind." Gin's voice (or was it his spiritual pressure?) became increasingly more threatening with each passing word; his veiled intent only belied his sinister motives.

Byakuya scowled at the Vice Captain. His eyes narrowed and his lips sloped into a frown. "Neither I nor Lady Niitabe care to dignify the existence of cretins with our presence." His words were as icy and harsh as the feeling of the displaced air hitting Hisana's cheek when he turned.

Hisana turned her head as he passed, and glanced up into her companion's face. The Vice Captain appeared, if possible, somewhat disappointed by Byakuya's refusal. And for a brief moment she wondered if Ichimaru was sincerely hurt by the noble's words or depressed that a prime opportunity to torment the young Lord had passed him by.

"My, he's a real cold one," Gin announced, apparently having rebounded from whatever displeasure he experienced. "However did the two of you meet?"

Hisana had a sinking feeling that this night was going to be a long one…

- - - -

"How did you find Lady Niitabe?"

Byakuya turned to face the unmistakable voice of his steward, Hidetada. He could tell the servant was radiating hope that unlike the other three women, Niitabe was the one. Hidetada's eyes glistened with buoyant glee as he watched his master.

"She was." Byakuya couldn't bring himself to expound further. An adjective was more than he was willing to commit.

"She was what, milord?" Hidetada inquired.

Byakuya tugged at the end of his treasured scarf. The fabric sliding against the back of his neck proved to be a convenient distraction as he considered his next move. "She was uninspiring."

The indignant "guffaw" Hidetada made was audible. Byakuya could almost hear the man seethe.

"You need to find a wife, Lord Kuchiki."

"Servant, I did not ask you for counsel," Byakuya stated in a crisp voice. Handing the man his haori and scarf, he made sure to give Hidetada a stern stare.

Hidetada did not bat a lash at his Master's sudden rancor. He had grown accustomed to Byakuya's obstinacy. He had, after all, known the noble since he was a child.

"Lord Matsumura asked me to make these inquiries," Hidetada said, hoping to mollify his Lord.

Byakuya gave the steward a piercing sidelong glance. He did not appear pleased. "If my great uncle wishes to discuss marriage prospects, he can do so in person."

"I feel you are behaving stubbornly, milord."

Byakuya glowered.

"We have gone through nearly every suitable woman in Soul Society. Your expectations are unreal if you haven't found at least one woman up to par!"

"You are dismissed, servant."

"Lord Kuchiki, your standards – they need to be lowered. Otherwise, you will never realize the full extent of your birthright."

"You are dismissed," Byakuya repeated, making sure to carefully enounce each word.

Jutting his jaw out like a determined bulldog, Hidetada turned his cheek and breathed a frustrated sigh. "As you wish," he growled.

Byakuya stood tense and still, waiting unflinchingly for the scratching sound his door made when it was drawn open and then quickly closed. He shut his eyes, and exhaled a deep breath when he felt the remnant of Hidetada's power signature fade.

Tiredly, he glanced up and focused his gaze on the garden door. It was open enough to allow the thick summer air entry, but he could see little more than the night's blackness.

Silently, he wondered if she would come. It was late enough already. His eyes stung with sleep, and his eyelids were beginning to feel like little weights threatening to droop down at any moment.

She had made a promise, and she had never lied to him before. She was always unabashed in her honesty even if it unsettled him. If she said she was coming then she would come.

But she did not come that night. She did not come the next night either.

Her promise still haunted him four days later. Part of him felt crushed that she had ended their tryst in such an undignified manner.

Part of him was incensed that it was she who had ended their… well, whatever it was they had. He was the noble; he was the one whose reputation was on the line; he had the power in the relationship. Didn't he?

And yet another part of him was pestered by the occasional pangs of worriment. What if something had prevented her from meeting him that night? What if some ill befell her and he was too cavalier to notice?

It was on that fourth day that he finally received his answer. The blackness of night had already descended, and he was stationed at his writing desk. His hand was firmly gripped around his brush, and his eyes were trained on the forms. But he couldn't seem to concentrate on the words written on the page. There was something nagging at him – some itching at the back of his mind.

Tryingly, he closed his eyes and meditated. There was something different about the air that night. There was an aberration – a strange hum of an even stranger aura nearing him. The spiritual pressure was light, barely perceptible, and it was alien to him. Whatever was approaching he did not know, and he was unsure if he wanted to make its acquaintance.

Instinctively, he apprehended his zanpakutō, and moved to yanked the door to the garden open with one swift motion. "Identify yourself," he ordered. His blade was already in position, hovering over the tender flesh of another's neck.

Glancing up, the intruder stared at him in shock. The shadows fell from her brow and countenance, and she gave a small yelp. "Whoa!" She raised her hands up defensively in front of her. "I mean no ill will, geesh."

Ascertaining that the small dark-headed girl was indeed harmless, Byakuya removed his sword from her neck. He brought the blade down to his side. "Who are you?"

"I came on behalf of Hisana," she began but was quickly cut-off by an anxious Byakuya.

"Hisana?" he questioned sternly. His brow lowered over narrowed eyes. "What do you know about her?"

"She is injured."

He grimaced at the revelation.

"She didn't want you to see her in her condition, but we thought it would be best."

"We?"

The girl inhaled a deep breath; her aggravation was becoming increasingly apparent. "Yes, we, the girls at the Peony House. We thought it would be good for her if you came."

Apprehensive, Byakuya submitted, and silently followed the girl to the Peony House. She treaded lightly around the periphery of the large edifice. "Come," she whispered, jerking her chin in the direction of a small stable.

It was unspoken, but discretion was required.

Silently, they adroitly infiltrated the darkened annex where she led him to the area in which Hisana was being held. It was a small dank room. The air was moist and heavy, and the ground was wet and gritty under his feet.

"This is where they keep the infirm," the small girl informed him as she grabbed a lit lantern, and placed it close to the futon where Hisana rested.

Byakuya much doubted that the conditions of the room were conducive to convalescence. Quite the contrary, he imagined. "What happened?" he asked, drawing to Hisana's side. The flickering glow of the lantern illuminated her features. She looked drawn and bruised.

The nameless girl placed a sitting mat down for Byakuya. "She had finished with one of her guests for the evening when she was surprised with yet another. The person, whoever it was, paid a nice sum to remain anonymous and thus there is no record of whom it was."

Byakuya looked askance.

"I will leave you two," she said, giving a short bow before parting company.

His head bent, and his gaze was trained on her. The flame's flickering began to settle with the stillness of the room, and he was able to better observe her condition. The strange girl was right – Hisana was indeed "injured". A long gash ran along her right brow. It had been hastily patched with a few crudely done stitches.

'Who did this?' he wondered.

Quietly, he recounted the girl's words. Hisana had been escorted back to the House by her guest that evening. He presumed the client in this case was Gin Ichimaru. When she returned she was informed she had to entertain a surprise client – someone who wanted to remain unknown. Someone who had enough money on him to pay a high price to pay for her services, and someone influential enough to keep his name off the books.

It could have been any noble or any determined shinigami.

But why?

She had come to him with injuries before – superficial lacerations and bruises. He never understood the need to defile a defensive woman. It wasn't very noble, and it certainly was not good form for a warrior.

"Lord Kuchiki?" her voice was throaty, and the words came out sounding parched.

"Hisana?"

Swollen eyelids fluttered back at the sound of his voice. "You shouldn't be here. Not to see me. Not like this."

It was clear she was not "all there" mentally. Her words slurred together, and her sentences were broken and, at times, incoherent.

"Who did this?"

She mustered a weak smile, and shook her head. "Don't worry."

"Have you seen a physician?"

She nodded. "It is expensive."

His brows knitted together. There was something about her response that disturbed him. Was she not being treated properly? He knew the Houses were tight with money, and he knew that the girls were regarded as being expendable if they became too much of a burden…

"Who was it that did this to you?"

Her eyelids fell shut. Her exhaustion was palpable.

Byakuya remained quietly by her side until the nameless one returned. "Morning is breaking, Lord Kuchiki. Perhaps, you should be off?"

He shot her a scathing stare. His features drawn, and his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep.

The girl bowed deeply.

"Who did this?"

She shook her head. "No one knows. Or, rather, no one is willing to talk."

"Why did you feel it appropriate to bring me here?" he asked; his tone came off icier than he had intended. He took to his feet. His movements were noticeably sluggish from weariness.

She shook her head. "When we first found her, she was writhing in pain, and she mentioned something about 'Kuchiki.' It was no guarded secret that she entertained you."

His gaze trailed to the floor. He considered the obvious first, and a grim realization washed over him. His family had many faults, but he did not think they would go so far. Would they? He shook his head.

"Who is the treating physician?" he asked knowingly.

When the girl lowered her gaze and pressed her lips together, he had his answer.

"Of course," he murmured to himself. 'So that was the reason she brought me here…'

-- - - -

When Hisana regained consciousness she found herself alone and in unfamiliar territory. The room was capacious and so immaculately kept. This was not where she had been taken at the Peony House. This was not the dank drafty room where they kept the ill and dying.

Pulling herself up on her futon was a sure shock to the system. Her head felt heavy, and her vision swam. A wave of nausea hammered at her stomach, and her equilibrium began to wane. 'Where am I?"

Her answer came a few hours later when she was greeted by a well dressed attendant. Her confusion was apparent to the servant, who was kind enough to indulge the curious gleam in her eye.

"Good! You are awake," the perky woman announced. "I will fetch Lord Kuchiki."

All Hisana could do was blink back her disbelief. 'Am I dreaming?' she wondered, drawing her hand up to inspect. 'This seems real. Maybe I'm hallucinating? I was injured badly.'

When Byakuya entered the room, Hisana's shock was telegraphed loud and clear. "You appear surprised," he noted absently as he took to the sitting mat beside her futon.

Hisana had not even noticed the mat before then. 'He's been watching me?' Her brows fell and knitted together at the thought. "What? Why? I don't understand." No truer words had been spoken.

A small grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Your cognizance of the matter isn't necessary."

"I am at your estate?" she asked, making sure she at least knew where she was.

He nodded his head.

"I'm sure your family is thrilled."

"They are no such thing."

Her gaze flicked up to meet his, and a smile thinned her lips. He was nothing but brutally honest. "Your largess is too much, Lord Kuchiki." Hisana stared affectionately up at Byakuya. Her eyes softened, and her smile broadened. "Thank you."

"Your gratitude is premature," he informed in his patented knowing and dry tone. "I took it upon myself to disentangle you from your obligations at the Peony House."

Her lips parted; her eyes widened; and her jaw slackened at the news. "What?" was the only response she could swing.

"Now, you may shower me with gratitude."

She gaped, dumbfounded.

"It was a joke."

She snorted a short breath. "So you didn't remove me from the House?"

"No. I was earnest on that point."

She nodded her head and looked down. Her expression darkened into a look of desolation. What was she going to do? Suddenly, she felt very cold and very alone. Staving off the sudden chill crawling down her spine, she pulled the blankets tightly against her breast.

She appeared stricken to Byakuya's eyes. She appeared lost in thought – drowning in the countless possibilities that now confronted her and her newfound freedom. He could almost see each question write its way onto her face the moment it entered her head.

"I know what happened that night," he answered soothingly. His voice brought her from her thoughts.

She blinked, unable to find the right expressions. She could have denied whatever thought that plagued him. But, that would have exposed more than she was willing.

"I think it would prudent if you remained here with me for the time being."

She shook her head. "No, no, Lord Kuchiki. I refuse to be a burden to you or your family."

He watched her with calm eyes. He did not appear swayed from his position. "The Academy is not recruiting potential candidates at the moment. It would be wise to stay here for the time being."

Hisana continued shaking her head in protest. "What will I do here besides get in the way?"

"There are many duties here that you could handle. It would benefit me greatly if you remained until the Academy begins screening for new students. Consider it as compensation."

Hisana lifted her head, and her expression became stony as she pondered his offer. "What will you have me do?"

"Marriage."

Her breath hitched in her chest, and her eyes widened. The world felt as it was spinning around her. The walls began to waver, and her body became intensely heated at the request. "Yes," was the only response that flew to mind.

Byakuya's gaze immediately lifted to hers. He appeared sincerely relieved by her response. "Yes?" he echoed, unsure if he heard correctly.

Hisana lifted her hand up for him to take, and he gladly obliged. For some reason, his offer felt to be a perfect solution for the both of them. There was a certain madness to it, Hisana had to admit. But, it was intriguing in its simplicity.

"Yes," she said again. A genuine look of happiness softened her features as she uttered the word. "I hope to hear you called 'Captain.'"

He smiled fondly at her in reply. "I hope to see you and your sister reunited."