Black-and-Red Conflict

edit 07.08.2009: finished updating reworked and hopefully final versions for all chapters
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lot's of drama ahead... *cough* sorry for that ;)
ratings change per chapter... i think it still might be a while until i get to anything too steamy... but later there will be :)
enjoy and please tell me what you think!


~~~One~~~
Duel


For everybody who knew Kuchiki Byakuya, only the idea that this man could be scared of anything seemed impossible, outright ridiculous. Nobody would ever think of something like that. But lately, unsuspected by anybody, a clammy feeling, a precursor to aforementioned emotion had taken hold of the dark-haired noble. What he was about to fear, even though he still reluctantly resisted to admit it, was that after all this time there had come one who was about to breach the absolute defense with which Kuchiki-Taichou had surrounded himself.

That person was not like his sister, who understood that he in fact liked her, without demanding a show of affection, not like some colleagues, who showed that they cared but did not ask for more, accepting his cold demeanor. This person was entirely different and that difference had started to have an influence on the noble he'd rather not submit to. The wild eyes of a Shinigami who grew up on the streets in the 78th district of Rukongai were about to break the walls the dark-haired captain had build and held around his soul for so many years.

Abarai Renji. The redhead had been interesting from the very day he had been promoted to vice captain in the 6th squad. Brash, short-tempered, passionate and a bullhead, he should have been everything Byakuya despised. All the bad and obnoxious traits had surely even been worsened by the man's stay in the 11th and Kuchiki-Taichou had not been pleased at all that he would have to deal with them from then on. But surprisingly enough, captain and vice had soon managed to work well together. Before he really noticed the change, Byakuya had started to secretly respect exactly those traits in Renji, which he had found so hard to understand before. The passionate way the redhead seemed to live his life and the willingness to fight for what he loved, it was that which, over the passing of time, made Renji a quite interesting lieutenant for the stoic Kuchiki-Taichou.

Their collaboration worked well and only as the Aizen-incident undermined Soul Society, it undermined their good understanding as well. They fought. And only by almost killing Renji and later through his fight with Kurosaki Ichigo, had Byakuya realized that he should not have acted like he did. But he had been forgiven. By Rukia, and, even though they never really spoke about it, he assumed by Renji as well. At least they had come back to their relationship from before, or so Byakuya had thought.

But it hadn't been hard to realize how Renji's interest had changed. It had started with the tiniest hints. Hidden grins and blushes from the redhead whenever he got a sign of recognition from his captain, his greater effort in whatever tasks he fulfilled, even an improvement of the quality of his paperwork, something he hated with a passion almost as great as his love of opening his mouth.

In his efforts he was clumsy more than once, but always trying to play it over and Byakuya himself found it more and more difficult to hide a smile or just the softening of his features. Renji was starting to become more than just a good lieutenant to him, he became dangerously important. The captain of the 6th felt his control slip through his fingers, felt that he was about to loosen up to the other and suddenly there was fear. Fear his walls would be breached, his pride hurt, his image destroyed and every nerve in his body screamed that he could not let this happen.

From one day to the other he started to withhold all kind of acknowledgment from Renji. He kept their contacts as short and their conversations as monosyllabic as possible. He had turned back to ice, hiding his uncertainty and emotions that fought to be let out behind his arrogant and aristocratic demeanor, refusing to let anybody come close to him.

Renji was completely confused as to what he had done wrong. Their contact had been a comfortable one before, and though he felt great respect for his Taichou he was by now certain that there still was more to it than just that. He had tried to hide it, but knew he failed. In contrast to his captain he had never been one to hold back or hide his emotions. And as Renji, trying to find out the reason for the sudden change and rejection of his Taichou, searched for a chance of discussion, Byakuya would avoid it at all costs.

The redhead's character was such that he could not accept something like that, but grew annoyed soon enough and started to revolt. They didn't talk anymore, and if they had to, only in short and sharp sentences. An avalanche of paper soon covered Renji's desk and Byakuya was sure that the other took way too long on certain missions involving his old friends from 11th division, than he should have.

It wasn't so clear in the end, who crossed the line.

They had come together for a training duel. A duel not with their soul slayers but with bokken, wooden katanas. A duel about pure and basic swordsman's technique. Nothing unusual, normally. Even captains and lieutenants needed to constantly hone their skills, but as those two Shinigami fought, it was no training match anymore. As both attacked without holding back, each with terrible determination, the sandy ground was soon covered in splinters and the assembled watchers had cleared a far wider circle than should have been necessary.

The tension radiated from the field in strong flashes of Reiatsu accompanying the loud clashing of the swords as they were used to their breaking point.

It was hard to say who really had the upper hand in this duel. Byakuya had his advantage in technique, experience and control, of course, but Renji had raw strength and an anger that fueled always new, powerful attacks. No demon arts were used, no shunpo either, this was down to the basics, but it was nonetheless dead serious. Even the last one watching had noticed by now that the “training” had ended somewhere between the first and the tenth second.

Renji had lost his headband somewhere around the fifteenth minute. Byakuya's scarf had been discarded, fast but carefully and into the hands of a very puzzled Ukitake, around minute twenty. Renji's black kimono was thrown away around the thirtieth, and finally Byakuya's white haori had fallen in the hands of the same bewildered captain his scarf rested with already, at minute thirty-three.

Both were breathing heavily, but kept their heads high, and their stances steady, none would give in.

Ukitake was standing between some of his own squad and was rather speechless. He could easily pick up tensions between people surrounding him, and those two now fighting definitely had more than just a small conflict going. He just wasn't sure if this was the best method to resolve it. On the other hand, he wasn't so certain he wanted to be the one stepping in between them either. It definitely wouldn't be a wise thing to do.

The fight continued. Fast, hard, relentlessly they sped through the dust, back and forth, none of them even able to think of giving in. And there they came to yet another draw and the duelists stood facing each other, Byakuya's face his usual emotionless mask, but drops of sweat running down his forehead, Renji's eyes narrowed to thin slits as he glared at his opponent, his lips pulled back in a snarl. His tattoos just enhanced the impression of a tiger, poised to spring forward to bring its prey down. That, or a true demon.

He shot forward and another shower of splinters erupted as the swords met and both stood their ground, trying to press the other away and apply another attack.

As close as they were each could smell the other's sweat mixed with dust, see the sand covering their clothes, skin and hair, they could hear each other's ragged breaths and feel them hot on their faces. Cold blue-gray eyes met with fierce reddish-browns and yet again both felt distracted by it and pushed away, not wanting to admit how much effect their opposite really had on them.

Renji spat out as they stood a few meters apart and Byakuya frowned, his mouth twitching in annoyed arrogance. Both shot forward another time, just to stand at exactly the same point where they had stood countless times before in the last thirty minutes. Only now there was a strained grin on Renji's face,

“Wassup? Don't approve of me spitting on the same dirt your highness stands on?” he hissed out and felt a deep satisfaction as Byakuya's face slipped for just a second to display a stunned “how-dare-you” expression, before he could catch himself. His lips were pulled into to an even thinner line than they already normally showed, and he replied, almost inaudible, “A stray dog with no manners should not even set his foot on these grounds.”

The short-tempered redhead had lost it then, as Byakuya knew he would. It wasn't hard to sidestep the rash attack that followed, wasn't hard to turn around and bring the bokken down on the hollow of the other's knee forcefully. A short hiss of pain that not even all his pride could suppress escaped the Fukutaichou's throat. He sank down on that knee and before he could push himself up again, a short and controlled hit on his wrist loosened the battered piece of wood that they had reduced the swords to, from his grip.

Byakuya stood with his head held high and should have been satisfied, but as he saw Renji kneeling in the dirt, a pair of angry eyes looking up at him from between lose strands of the red mane with a strange mix of hate, rage and hurt, the only thing that was left in the noble was anger at himself. Anger for letting his resolve slip like that. For uttering something that he, as head of the Kuchiki clan, as captain of the 6th division – as Abarai Renji's captain – should never have said.

Only with the greatest effort was he able to hide his feelings behind the porcelain skin and dark black holes his mask was made of, before he turned around and let the bokken fall to the ground carelessly. He left the field after taking his scarf and haori back from the speechless Ukitake, not turning around, but hearing very well the hardly suppressed growl of anger as Renji's fist connected with the ground at his knees.

The watchers stood for a few moments longer, not even uttering whispers, until they dispersed slowly and the first hushed talks started as heads were stuck together closely.

In the end there was only Renji, still kneeling were Byakuya had brought him to his knees, and Ukitake, a worried look on his face as he rested his eyes on the passionate redhead.

Finally the captain went up to him and held out his hand.

Renji looked at it and at first seemed to want to deny the help, but then took it and pushed himself up, flexing his knee, which hurt much more than he would ever admit, and rubbed his wrist.

Ukitake knew there wasn't anything he could have said. He wasn't sure what either of those two felt or what had really been going on, but Renji, the tension of his muscles slowly loosening and giving way to a tremble, didn't seem like one who wanted to hear anything 'sensible' or 'encouraging' right now. As Ukitake took a careful look on the vice-captain's face, the anger and hurt that was still clearly obvious on it confirmed the white-haired captain's plan of keeping his mouth shut. With a short nod as a greeting he slowly left and Abarai Renji was thankful to be alone.

What had just happened? Renji wasn't even sure he himself understood what it had been. He realized he had overdone it with his comment, especially the 'your highness' part was probably something he should have rather bitten his own tongue off than ever say into his captain's face. But somehow nothing of all this followed the term of normality anymore. He shouldn't be so upset about Kuchiki-Taichou ignoring him, about the arrogant look on the other's face or about losing to one of the strongest Shinigami in whole Soul Society. And he shouldn't feel so hurt about being called a stray dog by this man.

What else could he ever hope to be for any noble of the Kuchiki clan, anyway? And here he was with the head of that very clan. Renji shook his head. Nothing more than a stray, surely. Still the memory tore at his insides and his face contorted once more as the rage overtook him. He lifted his discarded bokken and hurled it with all might against a nearby tree.

The wood finally broke.

Then he set off towards the office of this one damn Kuchiki, a decision clear in his mind.


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