Title: Not Enough Words
Fandom: Bleach
Pairing/Characters: Renji x Byakuya
Rating: G
One hand clumsily raked papers across the desk, jerking back too late to avoid the inkpot where it sat in the midst of the clutter. Knuckles grazed the smooth glass of the small jar, the impact sending it skittering to swivel on it's rounded edge before it overbalanced, spilling night-black liquid across the desk's surface. With a curse, Renji fumbled for the damp rag he kept handy for just such emergencies -- it was maddening at times how often he did just this -- and hastily mopped up the spill, carefully wiping at the ink to keep it from staining the already stained surface of the desk. Rather pointless, in his opinion, the thing was already stained, but that was what Kuchiki-taichou would have wanted. And seeing as it was his desk to begin with...
With an irritated sigh, the sixth division's vice-captain leaned back in his chair and tossed the ink-spattered rag into the wastebasket before folding his arms behind his neck. If it wasn't bad enough that he was stuck in here doing paperwork, it had to be his captain's paperwork, that Byakuya had left behind while he went out on errands for the Kuchiki clan. His own paperwork, well that was the rather dog-eared and abused-looking stack on the left of the desk, a source of constant comment by the long-haired noble. It was Kuchiki Byakuya's opinion that such things, even paperwork, should be conducted with a certain sort of decorum.
Which meant that on nights like these, when Renji was stuck doing ALL the paperwork, he had to make certain that even if his stack looked like a third-grader's homework assignment, the other pile on the desk had to be pristine, organized, and unruffled. In a word, perfect. Heaving another irritated sigh, the crimson-haired shinigami ran hands through his loose hair before pulling the next sheet off of the pile. Smoothing it, he pulled the ink pot closer again, and began to carefully pen the proper strokes in the proper places.
It was ironic, at least to him, how he'd come so far, gained so much strength, and now it was shown not by his prowess in battle, but at a desk, filling out paperwork for the man who he'd sworn to surpass. Rolling his eyes, he signed his name to another sheet with a flourish before settling it neatly, precisely on top of the other 10 sheets he'd already done.
He'd ended up in this position not because of Kuchiki Byakuya. Well... at least not directly because of him. No, every step he'd taken since almost as long as he could remember had been for one person. For her. To make himself worthy of what she'd become when the man he now served had stepped down from that lofty tower and swept Rukia away to a life far grander than any Renji could have given her. Kuchiki Byakuya had become the goal, the bar that he had used to set a height for himself to one day leap.
It had been for that purpose that he'd trained, that he'd worked himself to the bone, pushed himself so hard, going through life staring at that man's back with it's black-stitched diamond bordering the number 6. He'd trained, worked, and there had come a day when he'd thought that perhaps finally... he'd reached that point, reached that apex. He'd stood on equal ground with Kuchiki Byakuya as he'd told his captain that he would not back down, that he would not allow Rukia's execution to commence.
And he'd been defeated. He'd stared at Byakuya's solemn face as the pieces of his shattered bankai fell around him, feeling the ache of failure to his bones. And yet... after that, Byakuya had treated him differently. There had been a measure of respect that had been earned, however silently it was given. Changes in vocal tone, in expression. Small things that told him he had managed to come a few steps closer to that point.
Watching, he'd conceded to himself -- however regretfully -- that perhaps the ultimate mistake had been his, that he should have held her back, should have called out or gone after her at that one critical moment. It didn't change his feelings on the subject, and strangely... it didn't dampen the resolve that he felt to one day surpass his captain. If anything... that resolve had somehow strengthened.
With an aggravated growl, Renji raked hands through his hair again, resting both elbows on the desk. THAT was what he couldn't get out of his mind, when it really came down to it. Things had changed, and not just between him and Rukia. They'd changed... in a lot of ways, but most especially between Kuchiki Byakuya and himself. Things were more casual -- if that were possible given the stoic nobleman's very nature -- more... intimate almost. There was a connection there, something that he couldn't put a name to, couldn't define or identify. It was strange, unknown... almost fleeting but at the same time possessing some measure of permanence.
And it was irritating. That feeling distracted him when they were training, when he'd catch himself studying the other man intently, hoping that perhaps by doing so he could find some visible, discernible difference, some small mote of change that would add definition to that intangible something he could feel. It pestered him on those rare occasions when Byakuya would provide lunch for the both of them -- made by his servants, of course, but who was Renji to argue against free food -- and he couldn't seem to sort out any reason why his captain should show any such behaviour.
It was that feeling, that difference that had changed things. It had changed his resolve, changed him, given him something else to strive for, something that he hadn't even realized he gave a damn about until one day when his own zanpakutou's shadowy voice had spoken, commenting on the fact that he was stalling. That in sheer power, he'd already reached that point. He'd stood on equal footing with Byakuya, and though he hadn't won, he'd advanced even further since then. He himself could have been a captain.
But he wasn't.
And it had been those words that had brought the realization, the understanding that it was no longer surpassing Kuchiki Byakuya that was his goal. Instead, it was something else. Something having to do with that same intangible thing, that subtle nuance that drove him to keep striving to reach some peak that he hadn't yet achieved.
"Renji."
The single word broke him out of his musings as he glanced up to find the subject of his thoughts standing, serene in the light of the setting sun, his face expressionless as always. Byakuya said nothing else for a moment, his dark eyes drifting over the paperwork still on the desk as he simply turned and made his way towards the door.
"See that this is finished tonight."
Gritting his teeth slightly, Renji watched the white haori vanish into the darkness of the hallway. Yes... there was still a goal there. Still a point to be reached and sought after. And though he didn't know what it was that was spurring him onward, what gave him the drive to continue fighting and climbing... one day he would know it. Define it, give it name and then it would no longer hold power over him. One day he would stand and look Kuchiki Byakuya in the face.... and tell him.
One day, when he'd figure out exactly what it was that he wanted to say.