Verse: 'Half-Canon'.
Shimizu Hisana lay on the straw mat within her small hut, unable to move.
She had definitely overexerted herself this time when she had been searching for her sister. She'd roamed the streets of Hanging Dog for days on end, walking until the soles of her feet bled and until her aching muscles had screamed at her to stop.
After a fruitless hunt, a dejected and desolate Hisana had finally returned to her hut, feeling tears bubbling under her lids.
She'd collapsed on her straw mat, only to later realise that her condition was worse than she'd thought. Her skin blazed and she felt terribly cold and hot at the same time; the girl could only lie there helplessly, panting at her discomfort. Vaguely she knew that she was running a fever, and she was desperate to cover herself with something, only she did not own any pillows or blankets to help ease her distress. Oh, why did she have to give all of his gifts away? Her head spun, and her vision blurred like rippling water. She drifted between consciousness and slumber on the straw mat for what felt like hours or even days—she had no way of knowing.
At one point of time throughout her delirious haze, Hisana recalled feeling large, gentle hands touching her burning forehead, but she had dismissed it as her imagination. She lived alone, after all, so the sensation was improbable unless she had an uninvited visitor.
She also remembered staring into calm slate grey eyes, and a part of her was darkly amused that during the most agonising moments of her illness, she'd fantasised about her lover.
Soon, her vision turned black, and she knew no more.
When Hisana lifted her lids blearily again, it seemed like an eternity had passed.
It took her a while to even remember her own name, and to slowly gather her thoughts. As she became increasingly lucid, she registered a wondrous warmth enveloping her body, a sensation so foreign that her purple eyes flew open fully in shock.
She was in a room she had never been in before. The furnishings were expensive and opulent, with ornate golden leaves adorning the folding screens and mesmerising plum blossoms illustrated on the fusuma sliding panels. There were a few scrolls hanging on the wall, displaying excellently crafted works of calligraphy.
She lay on a futon—a futon! When was the last time, if ever, that she had allowed herself to enjoy the luxury of a futon?—beneath thick blankets. It felt like heaven compared to the hard straw mats that she slept on every night. She even had a soft pillow under her head.
A young girl dressed in dark brown garments sat by Hisana's bedside, dabbing her forehead with a cold wet towel.
"Oh, you're awake, Miss," the girl said, her face brightening. "This is wonderful! Your fever has finally broken."
"Who are you?" Hisana whispered. "And where am I?"
The girl smiled kindly. "My name is Akari. And you're in the Kuchiki Manor, Miss."
What?
She was in the Kuchiki Manor? Did that mean... Hisana had not imagined the sight of those entrancing grey eyes in the midst of her fever?
If she was in his manor, did that mean she was in Seireitei?! Hisana had never left Hanging Dog before in the entirety of her life, so the mere idea that she was now in a completely foreign place terrified her.
"Byakuya-sama watched over you all night," Akari continued, still dabbing at Hisana's clammy forehead. "The physician just left. You've been really sick, Miss."
Hisana tried to sit up from her futon, but Akari dropped the towel and gripped her shoulders in alarm.
"Miss, you're not well yet!" Akari exclaimed in dismay. "You need to lie down!"
"Please," Hisana implored weakly. "I need to go home—"
"What is going on?"
Both Hisana and Akari stiffened at the deep, sharp baritone voice.
Hisana lifted her head and her stomach tightened when she saw that Kuchiki Byakuya had slid open one of the sliding doors and soundlessly entered the room. Instead of the light windflower silk scarf and the black robes that she was used to seeing him in, he wore a white silk haori and pale blue robes. His silvery eyes were narrowed with displeasure.
"Byakuya-sama," Akari said, rising to her feet and bowing.
He glanced carelessly to the servant girl. "You are dismissed."
"Understood, Byakuya-sama."
With her back still bowed, Akari respectfully retreated from the lavish room.
Hisana bit her lip, her hands fisting her blankets. Now that she and Byakuya were alone together, she couldn't help but feel extremely awkward, her heart pounding.
Yet at the same time, despite her fatigue from her fever, the familiar sight of him made her skin tingle with excitement.
The woman watched as he gracefully made his way to her bedside and lowered himself to a seated position at the same spot where Akari had, too, been sitting at mere moments ago, then deftly picked up the damp towel the servant girl had left inside a bowl of water.
"How are you feeling?" he queried levelly.
"I'm fine, Byakuya-sama," Hisana said softly. She blinked tiredly as he dabbed her ashen face gently with the towel in the same way that Akari had done. It was strange; Hisana had never envisioned Byakuya playing the role of a caregiver or a nurse—he had always been more of a soldier and a commanding figure to her. "You... You brought me here."
He regarded her inscrutably without comment.
"People are going to talk," Hisana said hoarsely. "You, the Head of the household, bringing a girl from the Rukon District here... They're going to misunderstand."
"And what, exactly, would the misunderstanding be?" Byakuya inquired calmly.
Hisana flushed. "You know what, Byakuya-sama," Hisana protested. "They'll think that we're... We're—"
"Lovers?" he said neutrally.
Hisana's flush deepened. "Yes."
"And would they be wrong?"
"No, but—but I thought we meant to keep our... relationship private!"
Byakuya ceased dabbing her forehead, and murmured, "We never made such an agreement."
Hisana froze under the sheets.
He was right. They'd never made any such agreement; she'd always just assumed that their affair was a covert one, considering the large gap in social status between the both of them. He was a nobleman, and she a filthy commoner from the slums. Their meetings were always conducted in Hanging Dog—she had no control over the time or day at which they happened, for she never knew when he would come and visit her in her home, nor was she ever given notice. Sometimes he would come visit her a fortnight since his previous visit; sometimes he would see her a mere few days after. Hisana never knew what to expect, and she never felt resentful. She was only a lowly peasant girl, after all, while her lover—if she even dared to call him that out loud—was the Head of the Kuchiki Clan and the Captain of the Sixth Division in the Gotei Thirteen. He had a long list of duties to fulfill and countless subordinates that relied on his leadership, and Hisana knew they needed him more than she did.
No, she needed him, too, in the way a woman longed for the man she loved. But her loss was inconsequential compared to the likes of the Noble House and a Division in the Gotei Thirteen. Hisana knew she should have ended things with him long ago, for they shared no plausible future ahead of them. One day he would marry a noblewoman, and she would be tossed aside to spend the rest of her days in heart-wrenching sorrow. It was better to cut off all ties now before she became more and more emotionally invested in their relationship.
But it was too late. Hisana was already so in love with him that it was far too late to back off now. If being with him meant spending the rest of her life as the other woman he secretly met in the Rukon District, she would take it, her morality be damned.
"Even so," Hisana said wanly, "It would ruin your reputation if you were publicly associated with me, Byakuya-sama."
Noiselessly, he lifted her thin hand from where it rested on the mattress, and kissed the slant of her diminutive knuckles, causing her to shiver with pleasure.
"This is only just the beginning," he responded quietly.
Hisana stared at him. "What do you mean?"
His expression was bland, and he spoke in a blunt, matter-of-fact tone.
"You will not be returning to Hanging Dog."
Hisana inhaled, then asked hesitantly, "Are you offering me employment here?"
He arched an ebony brow.
"To work for the Kuchiki House, I mean," Hisana elaborated. Her pulse raced. If she could work in the Kuchiki Manor, then she would be able to see her lover almost everyday. It felt too good to be true, and it probably was. Everything came at a price, for that would mean further distancing herself from her missing sister. "I suppose I can do the housework with the other servants, but I'm not sure—"
"Housework is assigned to the servants, and not to the mistress of the household, Hisana," Byakuya said coolly. His slate grey eyes flashed at her. "Do you understand?"
Hisana met his hard gaze with bewilderment. "I—I... The mistress? Wouldn't that person be Byakuya-sama's... wife?"
Just the mere possibility made her belly churn with jealousy. Perhaps working in the Manor was a bad idea, after all. She would have to face Byakuya's future wife almost daily, and it would torment her to no end.
"Indeed," Byakuya replied mildly. "If you wish to remain by my side, those are the shoes I would like you to fill."
Hisana turned as rigid as stone on the futon, and she stared uncomprehendingly at him, her lips parted in shock.
It couldn't be. There was no way he was suggesting what she thought he was suggesting.
"Byakuya-sama...?"
:tbc:
A/N: This is set some time in the future after the first chapter. It's not a direct sequel to the first chapter, but it is a sequel. Thanks for reading, the few of you who reviewed. :)