Author's note: This is my first story/one-shot ever! Happieness! It's a PWP, and I'm sorry about that! I'm used to writing fluff... It's about Byakuya when he was younger. It's from his point of view. I wrote this at 12 AM so don't blame me that it possibly is terrible. Please comment/review! Thanks Kokoro-chan for editing! Anyway, enjoy!
Italics- Byakuya's writing
Disclaimer: I don't and will never own Byakuya Kuchiki, his grandfather, or Bleach in general. The characters go to their respected owners. This was purely fan-made.
It was late afternoon in the Kuchiki Mansion. Clan members were relaxing in the last few hours of sunlight before the warmth faded away with the setting sun. The warmth felt wonderful and soothing. The sky was just starting to get its pre-dusk colors. Different shades of pastel lavenders, oranges, and pinks. A light breeze fluttered in the trees that surrounded the home making some of the petals of a cherry tree blossoms flutter away.
In the courtyard, a young Kuchiki was training. The boy wore a teal hakama and a white long-sleeved shirt. Two teal straps were crossed in an 'x' shape on his back. They held back the usually long white sleeves. He had shoulder length raven black hair that was tied back in a ponytail by a red piece of string tied in a bow. He also had blue-violet eyes that shone with determination and confidence. The sunlight made the sweat drops on his body glisten like tiny gems. He was thrusting a shinai through many imaginary opponents. His moves were somewhat awkward because of his lack of experience.
"Byakuya, come here," Ginrei Kuchiki, Byakuya's grandfather, called from inside the manor.
"Coming!" Byakuya quickly responded. He quickly walked toward the room where his grandfather did his paperwork.
Byakuya sat inside a large room inside the mansion. A servant had given him a cup of steaming tea and a towel to wipe some of the sweat away from his face. Byakuya had cleaned most of the sweat away so he draped the now damp towel around his neck like a scarf.
"I'm sorry to keep you waiting, Byakuya," an elderly man said as he walked into the room. "I had some paper work that needed to be attended to."
Besides being Byakuya's grandfather, Ginrei Kuchiki was the captain of Squad Six in the Thirteen Court Guard Squad. He had silver hair that matched the color of his mustache and beard. He was wearing his white captain's haori and black Shinigami robes. He also wore the scarf that was a family heirloom. He usually stayed in his squad's barracks, but he was taking a small vacation.
"There's no need to apologize, Grandfather." the younger Kuchiki responded. "I know that you have many duties as a captain. One of those duties is to make sure your squad's work gets done. It's one of your top priorities. "
"That is correct," the older Kuchiki agreed.
"Why did you call me here?" Byakuya asked impatiently.
Ginrei Kuchiki continued, temporarily ignoring his grandson's rudeness. "I was just about to get to that. Sometimes, I think your hot-headed, quick-tempered, impatient attitude gets the better of you."
"Sorry…" Byakuya mumbled.
"Anyway," the older Kuchiki began, "today I decided that you are old enough to start a journal."
"Why, Grandfather? I mean, shouldn't I spend my time training instead of writing?"
"Oh, but this is a type of training! Yes, it is important to train your body, but it is even more important to train you mind. A journal is a good way to keep your thoughts in order and it can be a place to keep your memories. A diary can be your friend because it can always keep your secrets."
"I see…" Byakuya said thoughtfully. He didn't like the idea of the journal. "How often do I have to write in the journal?"
"As often as you like, but preferably every day," the old man replied. He then reached into the sleeve of his robe and produced a journal, and then he handed it to his grandson. "This can be your first journal."
Byakuya took the book and started to examine it. The journal was made out of fine black leather. It had gold-coloring on the edge of all the pages which glittered in the light. He opened the book to examine the pages. They were thick enough for someone to use calligraphy ink, and they were light cream in color. The book looked like other books that Byakuya had in his bedroom, but that was fine with Byakuya. That would make it easier to hide the journal if he decided to use it.
"Thank you," Byakuya said while bowing, the journal firmly gripped in his hands. "I promise I will try to write in this journal every day."
"Very good! Now you may go and get ready for dinner."
Byakuya bowed once more and then left to go to his room. He needed to take a shower. Maybe if he had time after, he could figure out what to do with the journal.
Byakuya had finished taking his shower and dressing in the clothes he would be wearing to dinner. He felt much better now that all the dirt and sweat were washed off. His hair was wet, and it clung to his face and neck. He walked over to his bed and sat down to relax. Little beads of water from his hair fell onto the bed clothes like raindrops. He then noticed the journal lying on his desk.
Byakuya sat at his desk, contemplating what to write in the journal. He had promised his grandfather that he would try to write in it every day. That was easier said than done. He gave a long sigh. Then he picked up a brush, dipped the tip into the ink container, and started to write.
Grandfather just gave me this journal. I'm not exactly sure what to do with it besides writing. He told me I could keep my memories in this book, but what is there to remember?
My name is Byakuya Kuchiki and I am fourteen years old. I was born into one of the Four Great Nobel Families. My parents died when I was very young and I don't have any siblings. I do have a grandfather, but I don't remember which side of my family he came from.
Grandfather told me a lot about my parents. He said they loved each other and me very much. I can vaguely remember them, but the memories of them are mostly their images because I have only seen pictures of them. I wish I could remember what their voices were like. Grandfather said my mother was very beautiful and she was an excellent cook. Her voice was soft and light like a gentle breeze. He also told me about my father. Grandfather said my father was a serious man who set a great example for everyone to follow. My father's voice was deep and commanding like thunder. I hope to be like him when I become head of the Kuchiki Clan.
Being a noble, there are many restraints in my life at home and outside. It's as if my life had been planned before I was born. I hate it so much! Sometimes, I wish I wasn't a noble. For example, once I get a little older, my wife will be chosen for me. I don't see how that is necessary. It's as if emotions mean nothing, but I am going to be a Shinigami one day. To Shinigami, emotions are unnecessary. So, why do I care about them?
The elders also have high expectations for me because I will be the next head of the Kuchiki Clan. They say I need to always obey the laws no matter what. I will have to obey decrees from the Head-Captain-General when I become a Shinigami. The elders say I have a lot of potential. I hate that word. My teachers at the Shinigami Academy tell me that I am a genius, and have potential also. I promise I will try my best to uphold everyone's expectations, but I don't know if I can. My teachers, the elders, and even my grandfather seem to be making me into a person I can't recognize. I just want to be myself, but I can't. I guess not knowing my true self is something I'll have to get used to. I'm trapped in a cage with no escape.
I wish I could be like the koi fish in the pond outside. Yes, they are trapped in a pond, but they are free to swim in any direction they please. I, on the other hand, am even caged in my own home. Meals are on a certain time; I can only wear certain clothes at certain times; and I am not allowed to go outside the Seireitei by myself because the elders are afraid I might be kidnapped and ransomed for a very large sum of money. There are so many simple freedoms that some people must take for granted. They do not know how lucky they are. I only wish to be free… Is that too much to ask?
When Byakuya finished writing in his journal, it was time for dinner. His hair was now dry, and it had a soft pale glow in the dim light. The towel that he had placed around his neck had fallen to the ground since he had been hunched over his desk writing. His hand ached, but he didn't seem to mind. He sighed. It felt good to get those thoughts off his mind. Maybe writing in a journal wouldn't be so bad after all. He got up to find a place to hide the book. He walked over to a bookshelf, and placed the journal on the bottom shelf. It blended in with the other books perfectly.
A light knock sounded on the door, signaling that he needed to hurry up for dinner or else he would be late. Byakuya ran his fingers through his hair a few times to get some tiny knots out. He stood in front of a mirror for a moment, staring at his own reflection. He decided to leave his hair down. Satisfied with his appearance, he left the room to eat dinner.