13The silence that hung in the air was deafening.
Everybody, every *soul,* in the great Kuchiki hall recognized the spiritual pressure that inexplicably sky-rocketed at that moment.
A handful of Shinigami - either the bravest or the most stupid, depends on who you're asking - treaded slowly towards the doors to investigate.
One, from the few hundred guests in the room, dared to make a sound.
A throaty chuckle pierced the quiet.
Sets of eyes searched for the culprit and fell upon his form: a man, jaw covered in dark, rough hair, with arms crossed in front of his chest and a smile on his lips.
One of the former captains of the Gotei Thirteen.
Beside him was another who held the same title. He had on a similar smirk but allowed half his face to be covered by the shadow of a small hat. "It seems as though Ichigo is about to go bankai."
"No," the other corrected, nonchalantly, "feels more like he's ready to go hollow."
Scared glances and hushed murmurs among several of those in attendance.
"Now would be a good time to see what is going on." A lady finally spoke, smaller in stature beside the two males. She too, seemed in the same spirits as her peers, with her teeth brilliantly displayed and her golden eyes danced.
The Lord of the Manor overlooked the tone that the woman, another former captain, threw in his direction.
His house, his responsibility, yes.
He knew his role as host. He did not need to be reminded of that.
Without so much as a sound, he took long strides towards the doors. The crowd parted wordlessly to let him pass; even the small group that had earlier inched their way to the wooden egress.
Uncertain of what to expect, his hand rested steadily on the hilt of his zanpaku-to, just in case.
He reaches to slide the screen open, a little more forcefully than he had intended.
The mansion's largest and most elaborate garden was absolutely picturesque in the bright, palliative glow of the full moon who graced the evening's celebration with her presence.
Byakuya Kuchiki managed to distinguish three figures on the small, intricate bridge that arched over the Koi pond in the middle of the artificially crafted haven.
One was of his adopted sister: Assistant Captain of Division Thirteen, Rukia Kuchiki. He recognized her petite form easily despite having her back to him. The formal purple kimono she had on for the festivity was another obvious giveaway.
The second figure was of the Shinigami Daiko. The towering stance and unruly orange hair are features identifiable with the human.
Ichigo Kurosaki, war-hero, savior of the three realms and protector of all, was pissed.
Very, very pissed.
The Division Six Captain warily approached and was about to call out to his sister when he saw it.
Or rather, him.
The third form.
A guest from one of the noble houses.
"Lord Byakuya!"
One of the Byakuya's eyebrows arched as the man, half-crawled, half-scrambled to his feet and clung to the edge of his pristine white haori. It was only then did he notice that the nobleman was trembling despite being on his knees, so close to the solid ground.
"Lord Byakuya!" he cried once again, regaining his attention. "Please save me!"
The man looked up at him, his eyes wet with tears.
He was absolutely petrified.
"What -?"
"He. Hurt. Rukia."
It was Ichigo who spoke; barely a whisper, with each word punctuated.
Byakuya turned to his sister and saw that she had her right hand cradled tenderly by her left.
She did not – dared not to - meet her brother's eyes.
"Leave."
That one word caused the already traumatized aristocrat to once again scamper, fully understanding that he had one chance to get away. He wobbled, ran and inelegantly screamed for his dear life finding his way out of the vast property that belonged to the Kuchiki clan.
The crowd that was once contained in the enclosed hall had all but spilled out into the garden. All encouraged to eavesdrop by curiosity.
Almost all, those who knew the three Reapers, either as comrades or family, tried to keep their chortles to themselves.
All those related to the pitiable soul, by blood or clan affiliation, on the other hand, were not amused.
"This incident will not be ignored." Byakuya's voice was deceptively calm. "You will hear from us soon."
They bowed to acknowledge the inevitable, knowing full well that they had worn out their welcome. They took their leave, fearful of the shame their relative brought to their good name.
The jovial head of the Kurosaki household took this as his cue to approach.
"Rukia, let me have a look at that."
She offered him her right hand without hesitation. She knew, despite his blaring persona, that he was a good man and an excellent healer. She tried her best to control her instinct to retract it when the human doctor gently coaxed her appendage to do a small rotation.
There was definitely some discomfort.
Isshin Kurosaki eyed his son, noticing that his spiritual pressure had barely dropped since… whatever it was that happened there. He decided that it was not a good time to mention that there was some bruising around the female's wrist. It was at the very least strained, nothing serious, but there was no need to feed the flames, so to speak.
His son was obviously in no good mood, so his priority was tending to the lovely Kuchiki.
"Yuzu! Karin! Prepare a suitable spot where I can treat your sister." He shamelessly called out as he ignored the glare that Byakuya sent his way upon hearing the words, 'your sister.'
An attentive "YES!" in two pitches came from somewhere in the mob of Shinigami. The Kurosaki twins' fondness for Rukia was no secret among the group. They genuinely wondered about the extent of her injury and did not contradict their father's instruction (or affectionate nickname for the Kuchiki female).
"Let us go inside, dear third daughter of mine," Isshin said, once again ignoring the Kuchiki Lord at his blatant declaration. "It's getting a little chilly and I shall tend to you where you can be comfortable and warm."
Rukia simply nodded and allowed herself to be led. She tried to steal a glance at Ichigo, who hasn't moved since he felt the need to stare down her assailant, but Isshin intentionally blocked her view. He gave her a smile, somehow reassuring her, and she continued to walk forward with him. When she felt all eyes of the prying crowd on her, Rukia became extremely self-conscious and turned her gaze down to the cobbled pathway.
"Now, now, nothing to see here, the whole lot of you!" The doctor mock-scolded, but his eyes held enough seriousness for the horde to slowly fall back inside.
The doors were hurriedly shut behind them effectively leaving the two Shinigami males alone.
"He hurt Rukia. I saw him grab her, pull on her. He -"
"I see."
For the first time since he had found them, Ichigo turned to face him, his expression fuming.
"You haven't even heard -"
"I have heard enough."
"Do you not care about what could have happened to Rukia?"
"Appropriate action will be taken." Byakuya paused, his demeanor or his tone unchanging. "There is no need for you to further concern yourself."
Ichigo flared a little more with the statement.
The Captain knew that Ichigo, aside from himself and his lieutenant, Renji Abari, was very protective of Rukia. But he had protocol to follow as clan leader. Violence is not the answer to everything.
Even if he himself wanted to unleash his shikai on the bastard that made the mistake of manhandling his sister.
"You may join us once you have regained control."
Ichigo huffed and resisted the strong urge to draw his zanpaku-to.
But he held the impulse in; out of reverence, maybe. He was a guest at the Kuchiki home and it was bad enough that he had created a scene with his inability to hold in his reiatsu. Rukia was with his dad; and even if he would never say it out loud, he believed that she was in good hands.
He waited until Byakuya re-entered the hall and slid the door closed behind him.
Ichigo turned once again and headed the opposite direction.
He needed time to be alone.