Simple Like Tea

Chapter 19 - Too Late


When Byakuya saw the two of them there, her small body that had molded so perfectly to his own earlier that afternoon trapped under his lieutenant, her wrists in his fists as she sobbed quietly under his administrations, rage didn’t even begin to cover what he felt. In that moment, he felt the urge not to stand silent and calm while Senbonzakura destroyed his enemy, but to use his fists, to hear the satisfying crack of bone against bone as he pummeled the face of the man he had made his lieutenant. He wanted to grab hold of him in his fists and tear his limbs from his body, to wrap his hands around that neck and squeeze until he felt the wind pipe collapse under his fingers, until he saw the lips turn blue, stuttering lifeless and pale. He wanted to take fistfuls of hair and tear them from his scalp, to feel every root leave the skin with a pleasing popping sound, until the room was covered in mangled red hair. No, rage didn’t even begin to cover it at all. Fury didn’t cover it. Mania came close, but didn’t quite have the intensity. Byakuya’s vision turned red and blurry, and his whole body hummed with adrenaline.

There was a moment when, suspended in the overwhelming sensations of his indescribable anger, Abarai hadn’t even noticed he was there. It took him an eternity to realize, to look up and notice, an eternity in which Byakuya envisioned seventy-four ways to kill him. None of them were slow or painful enough. None of them were tortuous enough. The bouquet of flowers he held in his hands, daisies and sweet williams that had reminded him of Reiko in their soft unobtrusive beauty, was reduced to mulch. He barely noticed. Reiko was looking up at him, her eyes wide and tearful, her face agony. It filled his mind, that face, turned up towards him, pleading and frightened. The brute had gone too far.

He had told himself he wouldn’t care, that they could parade an affair for all to see, and he wouldn’t care. He told himself he would pretend not to hear, not to see, not to know. He had willed his tired heart not to race at the thought of her being in his arms. But this was different. The intensity of that afternoon, the searing sensations that had overcome him somehow, inexplicably driven him to her arms in a way he had never thought he would be driven to a woman, had made him care. She had forced him to open his heart to her, to let her in. She had come into his life quietly, like a silent killer that had snuck through his every defense without triggering an alarm. Once inside, she had blown everything with the force of a wrecking ball, tearing down all the walls he had so carefully erected around himself over the years, leaving him lost and dazed in the wreckage. So he cared. But worse, a hundred thousand times worse, was the brute made her cry. This was not an affair. This was an assault. She was unwilling, and the vile barbarian was forcing himself on her. He had never told himself he wouldn’t care about that.

“Unhand my bride,” he hissed through his clenched teeth, taking one single, angry step towards them. The mulch fell from his fingers, fluttering noiselessly to the clean floors in an ill omen of red, yellow and white.

With a feral growl, Abarai was on his feet, her little wrists still clutched tightly in his grip as he pulled her to his chest. “So you’re really going through with this?” He released her wrists to wrap his arms possessively around her. “You’re ruining her life! Did you think of that at all? Do you even care?”

Her shoulders shook and he desperately wanted to see her face. But it was buried in the brute’s chest, and he saw by the straining tendons on his arms that Abarai was holding her very close. “I will not ask you again. Unhand her.” Byakuya didn’t even realize that he was gripping the hilt of his sword until his lieutenant’s eyes darted to it, his grip tightening on the precious bundle in his arms and making her gasp. Byakuya bared his teeth in rage. He was hurting her!

“I love her! You couldn’t possibly understand that! You don’t know anything about what it’s like!”

“You love my married, pregnant sister,” Byakuya hissed cruelly, and Abarai’s eyes widened. Reiko was very, very still in his arms. She looked limp suddenly, like a doll. Her yukata had slipped and revealed her shoulder, and it was covered in goosebumps and the bruises from their love making. The memory of it had him gripping his sword hilt tighter, his knuckles popping with the strain.

“I’ll kill you,” Renji hissed, the sound feral and foreign coming from the lips of the sometimes foolish, often rash lieutenant, who had otherwise been perfectly respectful, perfectly obedient. There was a wildness in his eyes that Byakuya hadn’t seen in a long time. In fact, he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen him so on edge, so close to the brink of sanity and decorum.

“Stop! Please!” It was the first he had heard her speak since seeing them together, and the sound of her voice, high and cracking with hysteria, made him shiver involuntarily. She struggled against the cage of Renji’s arms and lifted her head, turning it to look at Byakuya with those wet pleading eyes. “Please, stop it!”

A strange constriction happened in his chest, a thick binding squeezing his ribs together so that his heart, lungs and other internal organs couldn’t function in the restricted space. Without realizing it, he had taken another step forward, his hand raised as though to reach out and touch her, to comfort her and ease the pain so clear in every line of her face. “Fukitaichou, let her go.” Byakuya barely recognized his own voice, resonating with hurt, anger, and another emotion he couldn’t place.

Abarai put his hands on her face then, turning it so she would look at him, and again the constriction happened. At this rate, Byakuya wouldn’t be able to breathe. He stared, anger and loathing warring within him as his lieutenant pressed his lips to Reiko’s forehead, inhaling her scent deeply. Byakuya’s memory presented him with the minty musk he had smelled on her before and he ground his teeth.

Renji released her then, pushing her behind him as though to protect her. His other hand gripped the hilt of his zanpakutou and he glared at Byakuya. No doubt the memory of their last fight was still vivid in his mind, because he wisely didn’t draw. “Renji, don’t!” She looked at his back pleadingly, then turned her gaze to Byakuya’s face. Again, those eyes filled his mind. “Byakuya-sama, stop this, please…”

He wanted to stop. He wanted to give her what she asked. He wanted to go back in time and redo everything differently, to do it better. To get to know her slowly, and drink her tea. He wanted to tell her how wonderful it was, how soothing and comforting she made it. He wanted to watch her sleep without plotting, without scheming, to watch her draw breath and release it peacefully so he could contemplate her soft-spoken beauty without being rude. He wanted to hear about her life in her words rather than read them from some legal documents. He wanted to make her smile and laugh rather than cry. He wanted her to get to know him, as well, and to find his company pleasant. He wanted her to love him, because it seemed that somehow, inexcusably and inexplicably, he loved her.

But it was too late now, he had made too many mistakes he could not un-make. It was too late because knowing what he knew about her, about his feelings for her, he couldn’t allow Renji to live. He couldn't allow him to threaten his precarious hold over her, no matter that it was built on lies and deception, no matter that she would resent him for it rather than love him. It was too late.

He forced himself to look away from those eyes and heard her cry out when he drew his sword at last.

“Scatter, Senbonzakura.”

It was just too late.





TBC

AN/ Don't hate me! *hides behind her security-blanket*

Sorry about the cliffiness of it all, but I need more time to work on the next chapter! So hard... I think I hurt myself trying. It'll probably be another two chapters or so at most, so I want to say (again) thank you all, for reading and for reviewing. You guys are all infinitely more awesome than I, and you like my brainchild apparently which makes me happy. I'll try my darnest to put up the next chapter (or two) ASAP so we can finally have an ending to all the crazy. Until then, please send happy thoughts my way. A mental "Go, agoraphobe!" chant might be what I need to wrap this sucker up, so let the mental chanting begin! ^^