The Seasons of Life

Title: A Reishiki Lesson (A Lesson Of Etiquette)
Author: Sophia
Theme: No 24 – White; Black; Colour
Pairing: Kuchiki Byakuya/ Abarai Renji
Rating: PG-13, which means it does not contain anything graphic or too explicit.
Word count: 1847
Music: Children’s Crusade - STING

Disclaimer: Bleach is not my own creation, I do not own any of its characters as well. Written for pleasure, not for profit.
Summary: The third episode of battle between feelings and duty (giri to ninjō) – first stage of Byakuya and Renji’s mutual fascination.

A/N: I would like to apologise to all of you who dislike yaoi or this particular pairing. My reasons for writing this chapter like that are quite simple, though: I like Renji’s personality, I love the way he looks, I adore tall, well-made men with long hair (one of them I’m fortunately married to), moreover, I believe that Byakuya deserves happiness, and if there had been a man who could give it to him, it would’ve been Renji, for he’s the one who finally earns his captain’s respect and teaches him a lesson about honour and loyalty (though Byakuya is unwilling to listen at first, hence Ichigo has to repeat Renji’s words in a different manner, XD). And one more thing: phrases about law and common sense are actually a part of the old Japanese rules established by Tokugawa Ieasu.

Additional Explanatory Notes: tae = to, disnae = doesn’t, ken = know, nae = not, whut = what, wuz = was, everyun = everyone, hame = home, eejit = idiot, etc. Aye, I’m giving you another display of Renji’s heavy speech.

A Reishiki Lesson

The world around him seemed colder than ice, although winter was not yet to come. The more responsible for the others’ existence he felt, the more heavy his heart got, the less his soul was able to fly and dream, the less he slept at nights, haunted by inexplicable, intrusive thoughts which seemed to run in circles like moths around the lamp or a candle, just before they got lost in their trance and burnt quickly, consumed by the insatiable flame.
The world’s future and the foundations of Soul Society were placed on his shoulders and it was his duty to carry them for as long as he existed. Therefore he had to be strong, accept no compromise, let no unnecessary emotion blind his judgement and simply hold on to what seemed to be the most stable and unchanging element of the reality he had to live in: the rules and law. It was not unnatural of him to acknowledge them as they were: he was the son of aristocratic family of military leaders, the guardian of the universe’s foundations, the one to whom the young looked up to.
Had it not been for the promise he’d made at his wife’s deathbed, he would have just drown in a sea of grief and savour the feeling of following numbness towards the world’s affairs, living his life to the letter of rules and expectations. Within these limits he knew how to behave and did not have to control himself so much, as the rules and law were in his blood, blood of a son of the noble shinigami family. He was born with them, he breathed them with his daily air, he knew them by heart and could recite them like a favourite poem, forward, backwards, leftwards, rightwards any time of the day or night.
But even though he knew them so well, he loathed them passionately, disgusted by their inevitability, feeling burdened by the duty to preserve them, to guard them as if they were necessary for the world not cease to exist. He acknowledged the fact that he had to set the example for the others, he believed that it was his duty, and yet he dreamed of the years when he was allowed to be straightforward, harsh and spontaneous, the time when he could still be perceived as a child. A child allowed to make mistakes. Though maybe those times were just a dream, a product of his imagination, maybe he never had been young at all...? However beautiful and pleasant, it must have been a dream.
He missed her sometimes, her quiet presence in his life, her beauty, her scent and delicate complexion, even her flaws... Hisana. His nadeshiko, a piece of his heart and soul. The best piece, Byakuya sadly mused, staring into the emptiness and trying to find anything worth living for.
Eventually he found his wife’s sister. A delicate-looking girl with big violet eyes and jet-black hair and features so like Hisana’s that looking at her made his heart clench and twist in pain. So he decided not to look, not to watch, not to get to know her and he always spoke to Rukia (because he did not talk to her) with his back facing her, never looking her in the eyes, never willing to recognise her true nature. She was his duty, but her weakness (at least he considered weakness to be one of her numerous flaws) and insecurity brought him shame and disappointment. Not that he expected something else: he could not allow himself to feel any positive feeling for her, it was the only way to keep both her and himself safe. Safe from creating a bond that would only hurt them both in some way sooner or later.
And so he condemned her to death. Law is law and one must obey it, he told himself over and over again, like a mantra, till resonated in his head, deafening and suppressing the stiffening, unbearable sense of guilt and failure. Tranquillising himself with those words, determined to believe they were true, he fought the ones who tried to wake his conscience, the ones who tried (not entirely in vain) to make him remember that he still had a heart. Rukia, the only one of the family who truly respected him and who wanted to be his sister, even if it meant suffering from pain of rejection. His untamed (but lacking self-confidence) lieutenant, expecting him to defend her. The orange-haired human, screaming insults at him and finally kicking his stubborn arse so hard he’d been barely able to stand up.

Pawns in the game are not victims of chance

He perished and was grateful for that. Though his wounds hurt like hell, he felt better, lighter, even if not completely relieved. After years of imprisonment, he finally saw that, in reality, he had nothing to lose. Nothing to be afraid of. No shadows to run away from. Moreover, a chance to be himself and truly breathe again seemed more than real this time.

Lying in bed at the fourth division hospital, he kept thinking over and over again, the same scenes playing in a forward-rewind mode inside in his mind’s eye, the guilt and disappointment with himself unpleasantly omnipresent in every one of his thoughts. 'I was like that, I am not happy at all, I am tired, but what shall I do? I do not know if I will be able to look them in the eye. As Renji would most probably say, sich shame, shame on me indeed...'

Poppies for young men, death's bitter trade
All of those young lives betrayed

Much to his surprise, he found Renji by his side again, sitting in the corner of the room, carving something in a piece of wood with a small, sharp knife. Byakuya did not know what to feel – joy or anxiety – in the presence of his subordinate. Renji was here, he did not leave him nor turned his back on him, but... 'Is it possible for him to forgive me? Shall I even be as audacious as to beg him for forgiveness?'
But before he could decide on something, before Renji could finish what he had been struggling to say, that orange-haired brat interrupted them, and when he left, Byakuya found his attention led astray from his previous thoughts. Gathering all the courage he had left, doing his best to keep his usual stoic façade, the Kuchiki heir managed to ask the following, trivial question:
“So, Renji, would you please tell me why are you here? I presume you were trying to find the appropriate words before we were interrupted”
“Ye want me tae be honest, taichou? The truth is nae appealing, though, ye might not like it at all. I wanted both tae follow my conscience and protect ye from yerself, Kuchiki-taichou. On both tasks I’ve failed miserably, but when ye left me there, drawing my terminal breaths, I’ve realised that ye have already defeated yerself, that ye are already suffering from a wound that was even more mortal than my own... And from that moment on I could only pray tae Heaven for making Ichigo strong enough tae help ye fight for yer own bloody life”
“You... didn’t want me to die, Renji?”, an undeniable tone of surprise rung in Byakuya’s voice.
“Oh Me Gawd, of course not! I jus’ wanted ye tae understand, tae open yer eyes and see whut wuz going on, whut mistakes ye were making, and how much ye really had tae lose. I ken they say that law can defy common sense but common sense cannae defy law, but it disnae make sense tae me, prob’ly because I come from the dust of Rukongai streets, the place in which everun longs for a family, for a friend, for warmth and safety of yer own hame...”
“It might not sound sensible to you, Renji, but law had been created to organise the world, to set the rules, the boundaries, to show people clearly and unequivocally what should and what should not be, what to do and what not to, et ceatera. I suppose that’s at least what I have been taught...”
“Aye, taichou, but is the law for the people or the people are for the law? Aren’t we supposed tae protect the ones who are weaker than us, feed the small and the hungry, save the helpless? And last, but nae least, doesn’t family mean anything tae ye? Nae only them lads from yer clan are yer relatives, ye ken. I even think than she should be more important tae ye than everyun else...”
Byakuya’s expression did not change in a least, although his heart skipped a beat in surprise at Renji’s straightforward statement.
“And may I inquire why?”, he asked in his usual emotionless tone, looking Renji straight in the eyes.
The redhead blushed fiercely, lowering his gaze for a moment and scratched his forehead in obvious embarrassment.
“Because, if only ye would let her, she’d have accepted and loved ye just the way ye are, Kuchiki-taichou... Wouldn’t have simply burdened ye with her expectations... She’s not one of them bigjobs from yer aristocratic family, but she’s more like family to ye than anyun of them... She cares for ye, Kuchiki-taichou – they don’t. They demand, they ken how tae order people tae do things, but they ken nothing aboot love...”
He shouldn’t feel confused or surprised, but he did nonetheless. It had never crossed his mind that love might have anything to do with relationships between family members, with an exception of a union between husband and wife. It was loyalty that held families together, not impulsive affections... At least that’s what he had been taught.
And so he gave Renji a surprised look, his mind spinning and the heart beating faster than ever.
“C’mon, taichou, dinnae be sich a fecking eejit like the lot of them lads...” the low, husky voice of Renji’s resonated in Kuchiki’s ears. “Ye shouldnae think that ye are alone”, Abarai added. “I’m always here to lend ye a hand, if ye need a stray dog like me... Let’s work together, taichou, and change whut we can for better, awright?” - without hesitation, Renji held out his hand.
Seeing that work-calloused, warm, outstretched hand, Byakuya finally comprehends it all.
Abarai Renji.
He is by no means weak or fragile, on the contrary – he is the embodiment of a masculine strength, an endurance beyond reason and the incredible stubbornness.
He is fire, he is life, a long-forgotten joy, an understanding friendship that does not await remuneration. He is the man one can rely on with the eyes tight shut, a trustworthy, loyal and devoted soul, straightforward, veracious and sincere.
Somewhere deep inside his heart the outspoken, hot-headed and extremely emotional teenager smiled at Byakuya’s older self and winked, a wooden sword propped on the skinny shoulder.
“I hope that I will earn your trust again, Renji” he replied and took his lieutenant’s hand. As soon as their fingers touched, Byakuya felt more alive already.