Simple Like Tea

When Reiko woke up, it was still dark out. She wasn’t really surprised. She often found herself waking up like this, for no particular reason. Her body complained as she sat up in bed, but she knew it was no use trying to go back to sleep again. She wouldn’t be able to until morning, and she had things to do in the morning.

Sighing, she put her feet on the floor, searching for her house slippers in the dark. She flicked on the light switch to the bathroom and gathered her things for a bath. Even though she hadn’t taken a real bath in ages, she still liked to call her shower a bath. She would stand under the water, wondering how anyone could possibly feel clean or refreshed after this. This morning was no different.

She lathered her sponge and scrubbed her arms and legs mercilessly. The tattoo on her shoulder, the one she had gotten when she was young and wild and terrible, she scrubbed especially hard, as though trying to wash it away. It was her wild ways that had given her o-jii-san a bad heart, and her insubordinance that had finally conquered his spirit. Remembering now, she scrubbed the skin over her tattoo raw. She had never thought of having it removed. It was there as a reminder of what kind of person she was.

Reiko stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around herself and looked at her reflection in the mirror above the sink. Her hair had gotten longer, but it still wasn’t long enough. She wished she had hair that fell down her back, the way her o-jii-san had always told her he wished she had. Hair like her grandmother’s, and like her mother’s. Her mother had been insubordinate, too, but she had granted her old father at least that much. Not like Reiko. Reiko had chopped it all off again and again. She felt ashamed remembering that now. She quickly put it up into a bun, so she wouldn’t have to look at it.

Fishing through her wardrobe, she found herself running low on underwear. She glanced at the laundry basket again and told herself she would get to it. Then she moved to the second drawer, the one for the everyday yukatas. She found one her o-jii-san had liked, in pale pinks and purples and greens. Slipping it on, she hunted for socks. The sun was starting to peak over the horizon. The farmer’s market would open soon. If she left the house within the next few minutes, she could be there when it did.

But before she left, she had to tend to the shrine.

Opening the window, she picked a small flower out of the tiny flower box she had there. It hadn’t been there before, but she had put it there to grow flowers back when she first moved here. She had had more time back then. Now the flowers were wilting. She would buy seeds at the market, she told herself, sprinkling water over the soil and shutting the window.

The flower in the vase at the shrine she took out and replaced with the new one. She took the sleeve of her yukata and hastily wiped the surface and the picture frames. Her o-baa-san had a picture there, too, but Reiko hadn’t known her o-baa-san at all. She rarely spoke to her, except to give respects; she talked mostly to her o-jii-san.

She picked up the cold cup of tea and poured it out, then made two more cups; one strong, for her o-jii-san, one for herself. She set the tea on the shrine, said a quick prayer, then picked up her cup and sipped. “I’m going to try something new, today, O-jii-san,” she said quietly. “I’m going to try a new tea. Honey and chrysanthemum. It will be very sweet. I know you don’t like sweet teas, O-jii-san, but the young customers always ask for sweet things. It will be good for the teahouse, so I hope you won’t disapprove.” The picture of her o-jii-san sat still and silent. He was young in the picture, likely just in his mid-twenties. About Reiko’s age now. But he was smiling in a way she had never seen him smile in his old age. Likely he never smiled like that again, after she had been born.

Finishing her tea, she gathered herself and placed the cup in the sink. She would wash it later, she silently promised, then picked up her shopping basket and rushed out just as the sky began to turn a light shade of pinkish blue.

**

When Byakuya woke up and found it still dark out, he wasn’t surprised. It had happened often enough before, waking up like this for no reason. Quietly, he sat up in bed and looked down at his hands. He thought of Rukia and Ichigo. They had looked very happy last night. He wondered if they were still awake, and decided not to go down that trail of thought. What they were doing did not concern him, and it was inappropriate to think about.

He reached out and tugged the string near his bed, knowing it would summon servants via the small bell attached to the other end of it. The servant entered just as he was wrapping himself in a robe, and he quietly asked for his bath to be prepared. “Hai, Kuchiki-sama,” the servant said and quickly ran to obey.

Byakuya remembered how Hisana had refused to let the servants call her Kuchiki-sama. She had insisted they call her Hisana-san, and a few had relented when they thought no one else was around. He wondered what the elders would think if he did the same. He tried to imagine a servant calling him Baykuya-san and decided it wasn’t worth trying, even if it would irk the elders. His enjoyment of irking the elders stopped when it infringed on his own comforts.

His thoughts brought him back to Rukia and Ichigo’s wedding and he smiled softly to himself as he went into his bathroom to find the servants had already filled it with steaming hot water. The marriage had certainly irked the elders, and though it was a big bonus, it hadn’t been why he had allowed it in the first place. Kurosaki Ichigo was a puzzle to Byakuya, one he had toyed with the idea of solving but always put it off for later. The fact that his younger sister had been enamored by him was convenient, because it had given him a chance to observe the youth up close.

There was little the Kurosaki boy left to the imagination when it came to his feelings. All his emotions were readable on his face at all times, a trait that Byakuya found distasteful yet oddly put him at ease. There were no power games or politics in dealing with the boy. He spoke his mind and had no ulterior motives that weren’t clearly stated. Foolish, but also refreshing.

Also, it had given Byakuya extreme pleasure to see the boy kneel before him and ask for his blessings to their union. He had known then that Rukia would not go through with the marriage without her ni-sama’s approval, and Byakuya had enjoyed having the power for the brief time before allowing it. It stung his pride that the boy had defeated him, no matter how long ago that was now and no matter how powerful he had proven himself since. He bore that stung pride now bitterly, now again gladly. At least Rukia was in the care of a man strong enough to protect her.

Leaning his head back into the water and soaking his hair, he realized suddenly that with this marriage, he was no longer responsible for Rukia. Her safety was not his responsibility anymore, nor her wellbeing. She was being taken care of by someone else, now, someone stronger. Perhaps the boy wasn’t as rich as the Kuchikis, but he made her happy. His promise to Hisana had been fulfilled, and the realization left him feeling hollow inside. It was as if the hold Hisana had had on his heart had suddenly vanished with the completion of this final task.

Thoroughly shaken by now, Byakuya got out of his tub and made his way back to his private quarters. His clothes for the day were pressed and neatly arranged on his bed, ready for him, but he hardly noticed as he walked to the mirror and stared at himself. He was nude, but that was of no importance. The contours of his body were familiar to him down to the smallest scar. The remnants of his battles he bore with no shame. His body was a warrior’s no matter his noble birth. He had not attained his position as captain through any means but his own undeniable skills. But he stared at his face and saw the face of a man alone. For the first time in a long time, for the first time since adopting Rukia, he was completely and utterly alone.

**

Renji sat on the sidewalk, staring at the empty road. The sun was just starting to come out. He had been in the real world all night, hunting hollows, but he wasn’t ready to go back yet. Better to stay here and watch the town sleep than to go back to Seireitei and face the night before.

Sighing, he stared into space, hoping to sense a hollow nearby. The truth was he was getting very tired. His muscles felt like lead and his head felt thick and foggy with exhaustion. But if he went to sleep, he would dream, and he didn’t think the dreams would be anything nice. Probably they’d be nothing but the torturous image of Rukia in his arms, or in Ichigo’s arms, and he would wake up reminded of how utterly he had lost her. He looked up, surprised to hear footfalls of someone approaching. They were soft, he noted, and careful, as though whoever it was was also very tired.

He looked up the street and saw a girl – no, a woman – walking down the sidewalk in a yukata, a shopping basket slung over her right arm, her eyes distant even as she stared at her feet. Suddenly, she looked up and saw him, and he jumped. She couldn’t have seen him. He was in spirit form. But she was looking right at him.

She stopped walking and blinked at him. “Good morning,” she said softly, and Renji jumped again. “Are you lost?”

He looked behind him, but no one else was there in the deserted street. “Are you… are you talking to me?” he asked suspiciously. He would feel very stupid talking to someone who didn’t see him if it turned out she was just talking to herself or something.

“Yes. Are you alright?” she asked again, then started crossing the street towards him. “I’ve never seen you before, and I know most of the neighborhood. I hope you’re not starting trouble,” she went on as she finally stood directly in front of him.

Renji gulped and looked at her. Her features were soft, and he realized guiltily that if he had seen her walking down the street, he wouldn’t have looked twice at her. Maybe a girl her age in traditional dress was a little unusual in this day and age, but it wouldn’t have been enough to hold his attention. He wondered why the realization made him guilty, but then hastily stood up. He knew it must have seemed rude for him to be sitting there on the ground while she spoke to him. “I’m not looking to start any trouble,” he defended himself, slouching his shoulders when he saw how much taller he was than her. “I just wanted to take a walk.”

The girl blinked at him, then glanced at his zampakutou almost too fast for him to have caught it. “What’s your name?” she asked quietly. “I’m Sujishi Reiko. I own the Sujishi Teahouse just at the end of this street.”

“Abarai Renji,” he said without thinking. “Where are you going so early?”

“The farmer’s market,” she responded, bringing up her basket as though to emphasize this. “If you get there right as they open, you can get the best greens. I’m making a new tea, today. I need ingredients.”

Renji blinked at her. Her face had lit up when she talked about tea, as though the thought of it made her happy. He found himself smiling sadly at her. How nice to be so simple.

“I’m not simple,” she said suddenly, and Renji mentally kicked himself for speaking out loud without realizing it. “I work hard at what I do, and I’m very good at it. Tea is beautiful and complex, and my o-jii-san used to say it was the drink of the gods.”

“Gomen,” he murmured, thoroughly abashed, “I’m sure your tea is very good. I don’t know anything about tea.” He found himself fighting a heat rising in his cheeks and wondered why he was blushing. This girl made him feel like a child.

She smiled and suddenly he found her pretty. She was a woman, he reminded himself again, not a girl. But it was hard to guess age with these humans. “Please come and try it if you like. I’m closed on Saturdays, but I’ll let you have some if you like.”

Renji blinked. “Sure. I’ll try.”

“I have to go now,” she said, glancing at the sun now almost completely visible. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Abarai-san. I hope to see you soon.” With a slight bow, she hurried down the street again, and Renji blinked at her retreating back.

It hadn’t been much, but he found himself feeling slightly better. He made a note to go to her teahouse later, to check on her. If she had enough spirit energy to see him in his shinigami form, she might attract hollows. Yes, he would check on her. And he would try her tea.



TBC

AN/ Thanks for reading on with me. Special thanks to those who reviewed! It's still kind of slow, but it'll pick up, I promise.