Title: Sound of the Tide
Chapter: 1/?
Rating: PG!
Warnings: Adult themes, sorta
Pairings: Byakuya x OC, Renji x ?? (OMG A MYSTERY!!)
Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo. In Japan, this would be considered as a great tribute to his sucess and genius. In America, not so much. :(
A/N: This story will tie in heavily with my other Bleach FF, "Blessed Victory", and may contain spoilers from that fic. This is also a Japanese-term heavy chapter, I will add some definitions at the end of the chapter to clear up any confusion. I hope you enjoy it!

"What, may I ask, are you blushing for?" Kuchiki Byakuya's voice was low, deep, quiet, and, as always, perfectly monotonous.

Abarai Renji winced from his perch beside his captain on the Kuchiki house sedan chair. He had hoped that the dim light of the twenty-ninth district of Rukongai would be able to hide the heat rising to his cheek, but alas, he was foiled again. "What do you mean, Captain Kuchiki?" he coughed into his fist, trying to clear the tightness out of his throat.

Byakuya turned his head ever so slightly, just enough so that he could regard Renji coolly from the corner of his eyes. Delicately, he arched one eyebrow in a silent response.

Renji coughed again and looked down at his sandaled feet. It was an extraordinarily awkward moment for him. "Captain, are we heading towards the red light district?"

Byakuya sniffed and closed his eyes, his chin lifting arrogantly in the air. There was a moment's silence before he replied. "Yes. Do you have a problem with this, Abarai?"

Hell yes he did. "N-no, Captain," he coughed again and his hands gripped his knees tighter. He was sitting ramrod straight, his entire body tense. He hadn't been within eye sight of a red light district ever since he escaped the hell hole of the seventy-ninth district of Rukongai.

Byakuya let out an inward sigh as the sedan chair continued on its steady path through the cobbled streets. This was a part of his job as clan head that he despised with every iota of his being: checking on his house's businesses. Over the centuries it had seemed wise for his ancestors to invest in many business venues, from silk to sake to tea houses. Unfortunately for him, a lot of those tea houses were nestled firmly in the middle of red light districts. While the tea houses in the higher tiers of Rukongai were nowhere near as…sullied…as the one he was heading towards, it was nonetheless a smudge to his name to take part in any business located within their walls. Unfortunately for him, his late father had a disgraceful interest in them.

He had wanted to sell each and every one of them when his father passed decades ago. But the house elders insisted that the income was too important for House Kuchiki—a fact that Byakuya found rather unbelievable. "We will only be there for an hour, two at most," he spoke finally as the sedan paused for a moment as the carriers waited for the guards standing before the district gates to confirm Byakuya and Renji's identity.

Renji simply nodded and swallowed past a lump in his throat.

"Keep your eyes closed until we reach the gates," Byakuya offered quietly. "And ignore any prostitutes that call out to you. They will stop if you don't show any interest. But if you so much as look at them…"

"C-Captain, why did you bring me along?" Renji's blush doubled as his voice cracked. Despite his captain's advice, he was staring wide-eyed as they passed under a huge flowering arch. At the first doorway, a lean woman with big breasts and a sloppy kimono smiled and blew a kiss at him, and Renji hurriedly redirected his attention on to his captain. Byakuya was as calm as ever, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes closed.

"Because you asked me to," Byakuya replied simply. "Do you not remember the conversation where you insisted on escorting me on my business trips?"

Sure as hell, Renji did. Byakuya had shot him down with a simple 'no' so quickly that it was like a bullet to the head. Was it possible that he knew what Renji had been up to the last time Byakuya had left Sereitei for a few days on a business trip…? His face turned a blinding shade of red at the thought. "Yes, Captain, I do. But I thought you had no intention of bringing me?"

"Change of plans, Abarai."

Renji stared at his captain's jaw, where he could just barely make out a muscle twitching in irritation. Slowly, ever so slowly, he turned to look straight ahead. His eyes this time were locked on the silhouette of the mountains far in the distance. Oh dear gods, Byakuya knew.

Byakuya took a slow, deep breath as the sedan chair finally lurched to a stop. He was faintly aware of voices calling out to him and Abarai, but he ignored them as he waited for his servants to set down a footstool for him. Slowly, and with all the elegant grace of a giant cat he stood, and stepped down to the ground. Thankfully they were in a good enough district that he didn't immediately find his feet buried into a foot of sewage or garbage. He did, however, find himself wishing that he had brought the higher wooden sandals that would elevate him far enough above the drain that his stockings wouldn't be threatened by the small trickle of water running along the street.

"Ah, Lord Kuchiki," a voice called out from behind the giant wooden gates he now stood before. Byakuya was all too aware of Renji stumbling clumsily from the sedan behind him as the gatekeeper opened the doors wide. "Welcome, welcome. The master is waiting for you." The stooped, greasy man bowed, his arms directing Byakuya towards the open doors of the tea house in front of him.

"I brought a guest," Byakuya replied simply to the gatekeeper before he began walking calmly towards the house. "Please alert your master, so that he knows to set an extra place."

He didn't even wait for the man to reply before he scaled the short set of steps to the door. Two women in fancy kimonos were waiting for him at the top, all smiles and flirty touches as they offered to take his scarf and his haori for him—surely, he was hot, they said.

Byakuya ignored them, even as they gave Renji the same treatment. His awkward vice captain stammered replies as he tried in vain to walk past them as Byakuya had. The two women were having none of that, however, and were attempting to loosen Renji's bandana from around his forehead.

"Lord Kuchiki! What a pleasure to see you after so long!" a high pitched voice called out as Byakuya paused just inside the doorway. He closed his eyes, and counted to ten as he focused on his breathing. Tonight he needed to particularly focus on keeping his mask of calm on. The new teahouse manager had to be the most annoying creature he had ever had the displeasure of meeting… "Welcome! Welcome!" And now the creature was bowing before him, reeking of sweat, alcohol, and a mixture of tobacco and sex.

"Let us make this quick, Yamagawa," Byakuya sniffed irritably and placed one hand on the hilt of his zanpakutou. He watched pleasurably as the man's glassy eyes followed the movement and stared in horror at Senbonzakura's sheathe. "I have better things to do with my time."

"No doubt, no doubt," the man murmured hurriedly before bowing again, directing Byakuya towards a particular hall. "No doubt a man of your position would be much too busy for one such as me! Your duties as Captain of the Sixth must keep you busy! Mustn't waste your time with petty troubles…"

"No, you must not," Byakuya felt himself frowning ever so slightly—just a twinge at the edges of his mouth. But it must have been enough, for the man hurried to guide him down the hall and towards a private room. He was jabbering the entire way, though, about random matters of running the tea house. Byakuya ignored him for the most part, and only paid enough attention to get the general gist of the conversation: business was up, thanks to the addition several new geisha.

Byakuya wouldn't bet money that these so called "geisha" were the real deal. More likely than not, Yamagawa had seen fit to buy the contracts of some high-class oiran and was attempting to pass them off as geisha.

"Here we are, here we are…" the man murmured and rubbed his greasy hands together as he bowed to Byakuya once again. "Please, take a seat, take a seat. Am I correct to assume that the Vice Captain Abarai escorts you?"

Byakuya looked calmly over one shoulder, and felt a muscle in his jaw tick at the sight of his vice captain. The two women from the door were practically hanging off of his broad shoulders, giggling as they shamelessly ran their fingers through Abarai's loose hair. The man looked absolutely miserable, and was attempting to scowl past the blush on his face. "Unfortunately, yes," Byakuya's voice was low and threatening as he stared at his vice captain. "Enjoying yourself, Abarai?"

Renji's scowl deepened as he attempted to shrug off both of the women, only to have them cling tighter to his kimono. It wasn't until one of them attempted to loosen his obi that he finally snapped and shoved both of them off of him, grumpily stomping past Byakuya and into the tea room. "I am never coming with you to this place again," he growled under his breath.

Smugly, Byakuya stood a bit taller as he followed his vice captain into the room. He allowed the greasy Yamagawa to show him to a plush pillow at the head of the low traditional table in the room. While he was mildly surprised to find that the table was made out of solid rosewood, Byakuya was appalled to find that the cushion he sat on was a cheap, threadbare thing. The floor hadn't seen a good polishing in years, and the walls were in a shabby state of disrepair. The room was decorated with cheap vases and terrible paintings—Byakuya was sure that one of the wall scrolls contained Chinese characters instead of traditional Japanese calligraphy.

"The tea service will be in shortly," Yamagawa beamed as he took a seat to Byakuya's left. Abarai was at his right, still scowling as he gathered his flaming red hair into a thick pony tail high on the back of his head. "You will be very pleased, I think. I have managed to find the best tea I could afford, just for your visit! And the geisha serve tea so beautifully…"

"I do not particularly care," Byakuya said simply. "Where are the books?"

Yamagawa flapped a dismissive hand at him, which set Byakuya's lips into a firm scowl. Just as he was about to open his mouth to admonish the man for his blatant lack of disrespect, a small girl hurried into the room with an arm full of books. "Business can wait until after pleasure, can't it, Lord Kuchiki?" the man whined even as the girl deposited her load on the table in front of Byakuya.

"No," Byakuya replied as he watched every so coolly as the girl curtsied and hurried back out of the room. She was much too young to be working at a place like this. She couldn't be a day past one-hundred…that was younger even than Vice Captain Kusajishi Yachiru. "I have no interest in what you have to sell here, Yamagawa. I only care if this tea house is making enough of a profit to be worth my time. You do understand what happens if it does not?"

Yamagawa shrank where he sat as he cast a resigned look at Byakuya. "You will close the house?"

"Yes, I will. Not sell it, mind. I will close it. You will be out of a job, as will every person that works here." That little girl would be free from this particular hell hole, at least.

Byakuya took one of the business books from the table in front of him and opened it to a marked page. He barely glanced at the book before he found what he needed—the tea house was indeed making more money than it had last quarter, and Yamagawa had sent the proper amount of the profits to House Kuchiki. The rest went into various repairs—not that Byakuya had noticed any repair work—and into the upkeep fees. He pretended to be reading the book over thoroughly, though, as Yamagawa yammered on about some more random topics.

Calmly, he simply stared at the old yellowing pages of the book as he focused on blocking out all the annoying little sounds around him. Abarai was grumbling under his breath as he straightened out his shihakusho. Someone was having a rather raucous party down the hall, and voices were raised in rambunctious laughter. Floor boards creaked above him. A woman was moaning. He struggled to ignore them all as he searched for the reiatsu of his little sister.

Sure enough, she was somewhere nearby in the red light district. Hopefully, he thought smugly to himself, she had caught a good glimpse of Abarai's antics with the prostitute door greeters. If things worked out the way he planned, that alone would be enough to end the ridiculous affair his Vice Captain was having with her. He couldn't afford for their relationship to carry on; if word ever got out that a Kuchiki house princess was busy cavorting and romping around with someone like Abarai Renji—a stray dog from the slums of Rukongai—all hell would break loose among the noble families.

"Don't think for a minute that I don't know what you are up to," Renji growled under his breath towards Byakuya's general direction. That was enough to snap Byakuya out of his sealed off little world, and redirect his captain's gaze from the book and on to his vice captain. Renji was glaring hatred at Byakuya as he tightened his bandana around his forehead, ineffectively covering up his tattoos.

Byakuya regarded him calmly. "You were the one who wanted to come, Abarai," he reminded him, not bothering to lower his tone so that Yamagawa could not hear them. Sure enough, the greasy little man immediately fell quiet and looked over both Byakuya and Renji.

"Is something the matter, my masters?" the little man sniveled. "Please, let me know and I will do my best to correct the offense."

"Nothing that is of a concern to you," Byakuya replied, just as the rice paper doors to their little tea room slid back open. He sighed as, sure enough, a woman dressed as a geisha glided into the room. He glanced at her only long enough to note her obi—the bright purple thing was tied in the front, rather than at her back. She was definitely an oiran, and a cheap one at that. "Let us make this quick," he grumbled and crossed his arms over his chest.

"These lovely ladies are the newest addition to our wonderful household!" Yamagawa exclaimed excitedly, as three more women in bright kimonos glided into the room. They all giggled and hid their faces behind ornate fans—all except for one. "They came to me special from the twentieth district. Their mistress sold their contracts to me for a wonderfully low price!"

"Yamagawa-san was so wise to partake of her offer," the first oiran giggled as she settled down on a small cushion beside the greasy man. Renji balked as a second settled down beside him, her dainty little body just barely brushing his in a coy flirt as she giggled at him behind her own fan. Byakuya tried to ignore the oiran that settled in beside him, and would have succeeded if she had been better trained. The woman practically fell onto the cushion beside him.

Byakuya didn't bother to hide his frown as his eyes snapped open and he turned ever so slowly to the woman beside him. If he had been a lesser man, he would have openly gaped at the sight before him.

The woman's kimono was dirty and disorganized. Her silky black hair was escaping the confines of her elegant hair pins. Her make up was poorly done and was fading in some spots, smudged in others; her eye liner had run as if she had been crying. And her obi was tied stubbornly behind her—as if she were a real geisha.

She stared defiantly back at Byakuya, silently daring him to say anything.

"Ack, Shione! You are a wreck!" Yamagawa wailed as he finally noticed Byakuya staring unabashedly at the woman. "Leave! Leave us at once!"

"She will stay," Byakuya replied calmly, his perfect mask back on. He turned cool eyes onto Yamagawa's wide ones. The oiran were setting out sake cups for the three men, two of them giggling and talking amiably as the third simply scowled and slammed Byakuya's cup onto the table in front of him. "I have no intention of waiting to be served. I am leaving as soon as possible, Yamagawa."

"I promise you, Lord Kuchiki, she is not usually this ungainly!" Yamagawa snarled and lifted his hand threateningly at the woman, as if he were about to strike her. The woman simply glared at him as she lifted her dainty little chin in the air in open defiance. "When I bought her contract, she was one of the most sought after geisha of the twentieth district! Her mistress thought she would be good enough to eventually be sold into service in the fifteenth…but, well." Yamagawa gestured at her disgustingly. "The girl refuses to undertake her mizuage ritual!"

Renji choked on his own tongue from beside Byakuya.

Byakuya watched as one by one the two oiran tending to Abarai and Yamagawa elegantly poured them both sake. Renji was scowling again, his hands trembling as he held his sake cup for his oiran. Just as Byakuya was going to offer his cup to the woman beside him, she snatched the porcelain from the table before him and sloppily dumped the contents of her tokkuri into the little cup. She slammed the thing back down onto the table, sake sloshing over the brim. She didn't even wait for Byakuya to offer pouring her a serving of sake, before she poured herself a cup and threw the whole load back in one gulp.

This time, Byakuya stared at her in open surprise as she settled on to her cushion. She was staring at the fourth oiran as she tuned an ancient looking shamisen on her lap, and for all intents and purposes was blatantly ignoring Byakuya.

"Shione!" Yamagawa barked angrily. "Show Lord Kuchiki more respect! He is our honored patron, and is paying your salary from the profits of this tea house! Do not shame me!"

"What salary?" the woman snapped. Her voice was smooth and distinctly feminine, but lacked the girlish sound of the other oiran. "You do not pay me. You barely give us enough money to afford makeup, let alone food!"

"And it's no wonder, what with that piss poor makeup job of yours!" Yamagawa argued back, seemingly unaware of Byakuya opening one of the account books again. "Why should I pay for your makeup if you do not use it like that? And you had enough food! You were fat enough for two when you arrived here—"

Shione, the disheveled oiran, was opening her mouth to argue back when Byakuya cut in. "It appears the woman is right," he growled quietly, and silence fell in the room. Even the nameless oiran that was tuning her instrument had stopped. "You are not providing these women a proper salary in order for them to maintain practicing their trade, or to properly provide for themselves." He snapped the book closed. "Why is that?" he asked quietly, and regarded Yamagawa with a cool look.

The little man visibly swallowed as he glared at Shione. The woman was sitting taller on her cushion, a look of absolute victory on her sloppily-painted face. "You have seen the men that patron this facility, Lord Kuchiki," he replied slowly. "They don't care if these women are decorated as proper geisha. They only care to be entertained by them, and later pleasured by them. They don't need all the supplies they ask of me!"

Byakuya glanced from the face of one oiran to the next. They had all fallen eerily silent and were looking at their dainty little hands, folded neatly in their laps. Only Shione met his cold gaze with her daring black eyes. "You seem to have mistaken proper geisha for prostitutes," Byakuya spoke after a moment.

"Are they not one and the same?" Yamagawa huffed irritably. The three oiran seemed to shrink in on themselves, but Shione rose angrily to her feet.

"Do not insult me!" she snapped, her little hands curling into fists at her sides. "I did not train since I was a child to work in a whorehouse!"

Byakuya ignored her as he took a sip from his sake cup. The rice wine hit his tongue in a pleasant way and slid down smoothly. Yamagawa hadn't lied about buying the best that money could buy from Byakuya's visit. This had to be some of the best sake Byakuya had the pleasure of drinking in any tea house. "Yamagawa, my father may have supported your less than reputable habits," he started, "but I do not. How were you three trained?" Byakuya directed his question to the silent oiran.

"Not as geisha, Lord Byakuya," the one beside Abarai replied quietly. She refused to meet his eyes. "We three were not deemed well enough, and were sold to an oiran house. Shione is the only true geisha."

Byakuya nodded in satisfaction as the woman finally fell quiet. "Yamagawa, you will provide these women with a satisfactory salary, as well as proper compensation for the materials they will need to perform their duties. As for the geisha, I will take possession of her contract and place her in the employ of a more suitable tea house."

This time, as Shione sat back down on her cushion, she seemed to drift like a blossom on the wind. She possessed all the elegance in the world as she folded her legs beneath her, and smiled brightly at Byakuya as she stole a tokkuri from one of the oiran. "Lord Byakuya, would you like some fresh sake? I am afraid I may have spit in yours."

Byakuya scowled openly at the woman, even as Abarai snorted with laughter from beside him.

Okay some terms of interest:
Geisha: traditional female Japanese entertainers, literally translates to "Performing artist"
Oiran: prostitutes from the Edo period that resembled geisha, and gave geisha the bad image of being prostitutes; they seperated themselves from geisha by wearing their obi tied to the front.
Shamisen: a traditional Japanese instrument, it resembles a three-stringed banjo.
Tokkuri: the little vase-looking thing that sake is served from
Sake: Rice wine! You all should know this by now

I think I got them all.

Shione is a little spit fire, innit she?