Pairing: Interpret it however you like.
Currently listening to:
Houkiboshi - Younha
Kiss the Rain - Yiruma

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. I also don't own Bleach Beat Collections 4th Session. Darn it. I really want to hear Byakuya sing.

Different

I.

He does not love her.

She is not her sister, and she never will be.

And yet, they are so alike.

She has the same hair, the same eyes, and the same laugh. Her lips quirk the same way his love’s did when she fights back unruly laughter. Her hands are just as small, her feet just as nimble. Sometimes, in the early hours of the morning, he really believes they are the same soul. He makes himself believe so he can forgive himself for all the little things that he wishes he could have done.

But they are so different.

II.

Her hair flies as she twirls and spins, a delighted laugh escaping her delicate mouth. Something inside Byakuya lurches painfully as he watches. She calls to him, and for a moment, he is so tempted to join. It is like watching his wife waltz back to life, back to him.

In the end, he only watches silently, trying to put his love’s face on the dancing maiden.

And then he realizes he doesn’t have to.

III.

She is skilled with her blade now, and when she leaves on her first major hollow hunt, he learns again what it is like to be truly afraid. It was his wife who taught him for the first time.

She leaves in one whole and healthy piece. She returns with a broken arm and a shallow cut on one cheek.

Byakuya nearly goes after the goddamn hollow that was responsible. Retsu Unohana, bless her, convinces him to stay put and visit the injured subject instead. In the end, he concedes.

She is waiting for him on the hospital bed when he enters, a bit weak but otherwise fine. There is a long silence as he prepares his reprimand on her carelessness. When at last he asks her sternly what had happened, she replied without missing a beat that she tripped and fell.

Then she burst out in giggles.

He doesn’t quite remember what his expression had been that moment, but it must have been the closest to pure, unguarded shock Byakuya Kuchiki has ever been.

Later, he decides that she is just as enigmatic as her sister was.

IV.

He wants to touch her.

Not that way, dammit, but he is curious (also not that way). He just wants to see if her hand will fit perfectly into his the way her sister’s did. If it was just as warm, just as comforting.

They are walking when the whim strikes him. Silence surrounds them, and the early spring breeze fills in the rest.

He lets his fingers brush hers first, but loses nerve at the last second; her fingers are just as soft: just the same.

She glances at him with those familiar doe eyes, and he refuses to meet with them, choosing instead to pretend nothing remotely unusual has just occurred. He already knows her beautiful, black eyes are the same, the ones her sister always complained were not as pretty as his were. He would be fighting a losing battle trying to convince himself they weren’t the same.

There is more silence. Then, after a few prolonged seconds, she slips her hand into his. They are soft and warm, just like—yeah.

That day, they walked until the sun went down.

V.

He is beginning to think his pathetic attempts to prove the differences are turning into excuses to prove the exact opposite.

He also thinks he’s going blissfully insane.

VI.

If she is the same as her sister, it would only be logical to say she is also just as stubborn.

If Byakuya was married to her sister for five years, it would also be logical to say he knows how to handle her when she gets like that.

He doesn’t.

So she ends up going to bed early, surly and quiet. She doesn’t slam her room door, but her silence is enough. The Kuchiki Head goes to bed soon after, tired and maybe even slightly guilty. But he also goes to bed knowing that because she is just like her sister, she will wake the next morning with bright eyes and a forgiving heart.

However, there is one difference he managed to add to the pathetically short list that day.

Surely her sister would never ask to display her Chappy the Bunny stuffed animal collection in this office.

Surely not.

VII.

He doesn’t like the way men look at her.

She’s growing fast now, and those lecherous male eyes are scanning just as fast.

Ichigo Kurosaki isn’t like that though. The boy is always a gentleman, holding open doors and never letting his eyes trail below her neck.

Byakuya hates Ichigo Kurosaki the most.

She doesn’t really have the nerve to explain to her brother about Ichigo, and Byakuya makes no move to discuss it either. It festers between them like a rotten dish no one dares to touch.

The days pass, and her frequent trips beyond the Kuchiki estate and to Kurosaki's temporary Seireitei residence become less and less noticeable to him, perhaps because they are so regular now.

That is why it takes him a moment to respond when Kurosaki approaches him and asks for permission to ‘escort Rukia out for the night.’

Byakuya wants to slice him into bits with bankai. He really wants to.

Instead, he tells the orange-haired young man that, one: his attempt to avoid the word ‘date’ was pathetic, two: that he was granted permission, and three: that if he, Ichigo Kurosaki, so much as makes her shed a tear, Senbonzakura was sharpened and ready to disembowel.

The Kurosaki kid, however, beams. Positively glows. It turns out he was expecting a duel to the death.

Byakuya Kuchiki couldn’t care less about him though.

As long as she is happy, Senbonzakura can rest.

VIII.

She is getting married.

At first, Byakuya finds the whole affair hard to believe.

He finds it even harder to believe that Ichigo Kurosaki is the groom (apparently, he is the sole disbeliever in the entirety of Soul Society).

But he finds it the hardest to believe that she will reside in the Human World from thereafter.

Her face was anxious, her eyes apologetic when she told him. He had said nothing. After a few moments of incredibly tense silence, she had departed, promising to give him time to think about it.

It is the last thing Byakuya Kuchiki needs.

After all these years, was he so foolish as to believe she would never leave? Her sister had left, indeed, but her sister had left under the Kuchiki name, as his wife.

She would be leaving under the name of Kurosaki.

She was never his. Never her sister, never the same.

She is so different.

IX.

The wind blows about them as they stand beneath the blooming cherry blossoms.

There are tears in her eyes, and neither of them speaks. The tears are enough of a farewell for her. But he could give nothing.

He knows it is not necessarily the end as it was with her sister. He would see her sometime in the future, perhaps already with a family of her own.

But there was also the chance he would never see her again. The Human World is far from Soul Society, and years pass fast in between. So maybe that was the reason he couldn’t let her go, couldn’t bear to watch her back fade into the horizon.

She is holding one of his hands in two of her own soft, warm ones. He is faintly reminded of another time, what seemed like long, long ago, when he had first told her the truth about her sister.

She had held his hand the same way, with those shining tears in her eyes.

“Good-bye, nii-sama,” she says now, voice close to breaking.

He doesn’t say anything in return, doesn’t move. He is a statue, frozen among the falling sakura petals. He thinks it would make it all better if only he said something, but nothing happens.

She watches him for the longest time he remembers. Her sister had searched his face the same way. When he says nothing, shows no emotion, she closes her eyes. He feels her disappointment, her hurt. Maybe it hurts him a little too, but he can’t show it, not because he doesn’t want to, but because he can’t.

And so she leaves, her hand slowly slipping out of his, inch by inch, and she is slipping away too, slipping away…

He moves quickly, smoothly. Tightening his grip at the last second, he pulls forward and pulls her back. Hands trail up her face, and he plants a chaste kiss upon her smooth, pale brow. He wants to say something, but he thinks that maybe it is enough.

And it is. When they separate, the tears have spilled over her eyes. But the radiant smile on her face makes it all better.

He leaves first. She watches his back the whole time, and he has to make an effort not to turn around again.

It is the same as it was many years ago, as it was with her sister.

But this time he leaves with a ghost of a smile on his face.

X.

She is the same.

She is different.

She and her sister were both heart breakers.

But she was also a heart mender.

Still, he doesn’t love her the way he loves her sister, and he doesn’t love her sister the way he loves her.

In the end, though, he finds it does not matter.

Byakuya Kuchiki loves Hisana.

Byakuya Kuchiki loves Rukia.

Same difference.

Now I can fail my business test tomorrow happily knowing I FINALLY got this out of my system.

Reviews/feedback will be appreciated!

-'sH