Standard disclaimer applies.
Author's notes: My second ByakuyaxHisana, as it seems I'm getting the hang of it and liking it quite a bit. The use of repetition was intended, just a little something I've wanted to try out for a while. Please remember to review if you like this in the least. Thanks for reading, everyone!

They meet by the riverside, stumbling against each other as they walk on opposite directions. She's the one who ends on the floor after the abrupt impact, yet his stance doesn't even falter. From her position on the dirty ground, she notices the rich fabric of his clothes; and she doesn't have to think twice to know that the tidiness predominant in his appearance contrasts greatly against her somewhat worn out clothes and old string sandals. The brown and yellow autumn leaves flutter around him, creating an imposing aura about him that causes her to stare longer than she knows she should. The only thing she can do is wonder why someone like him walks around these filthy, poor streets.

"Forgive me," she says.

It's been one, two, three months…

She's standing on the wooden bridge; the frozen river below her seems to glare back intensely at her, and the bluish sky stands cloudless from above. Her feet are numb, for her sandals offer no protection and thus her sock-less toe fingers have become cold and rigid. Both of her hands are very cold too, but she doesn't own mittens or gloves or scarves even. She hears light footsteps approaching her way, like feathers touching the gravel; but her keen ears are able to listen. At this time of the day, the streets are empty, so it shocks her to see him there, standing behind her and carrying a blanket. The blanket falls softly over her shoulders, and she doesn't even know when he has gotten so near.

"Forgive me," he says.

It's been four, five months…

The household is in complete uproar; it has been turned upside down from the west wing to the east wing. The heir is celebrating his wedding ceremony, with no noble woman, no less, and the air about the compound is too tense. He doesn't care about the disapproving glances or the hushed whispers from the elders; to him, it is worth it. And still, he cannot find a way to erase the remorseful look in her eyes. He assures her with everything he has, but he is also secretly afraid to talk too much, to touch too much, to love too much. When the day finally comes, it is the first day of spring and the breeze sways gently her black hair and her silk layered robes. His parents are not there that day.

"Forgive me," she says.

It's been one, two, three years…

Autumns, winters, and springs have gone by, but it is summer now. It's been raining lately, so they haven't gone out to their usual afternoon stroll. Instead, they remain in their room, watching the rain through the window. She looks slightly tired, sad, and weak. There are tears in her dark blue eyes. Today, she hasn't found that precious thing she's been looking for so intently either. He takes her hand quietly, tightening his hold around her fingers. He holds her hand the same way she held his when his parents passed away. Like then, his expression says nothing, but the woman knows that the feelings are there for sure… He'd promised her they'd find her.

"Forgive me," he says.

It's been four, five years…

Five autumns, five winters, five springs, and five summers that they've shared together. It's mid-April and the cherry blossom trees have long ago started to bloom as part of their never-ending cycle of death and rebirth. She's not longer like spring, but more like the autumn leaves she remembers falling when they met. Life is being drained away from her slowly, her cream skin is blemished and pale, and her blue eyes become glazed over. He kneels by her, with that unreadable expression upon his face looking strained as she smiles up weakly at him. She speaks her last words to him, sick and tired, asks him to promises her he'll find that precious person for her, her dear little sister. He has been holding her hand the whole time, like every time in those five years of dreams. And then…

"Forgive me," she says.

And the tree's pink blossoms fall over the pond in the courtyard, touching the clear water and causing ripples on the surface.

It's been one, two, three, four… it's been over five years since they met.

One, two, three, four, five, six years… He no longer counts time anyway. For him time had always flowed endlessly, each day filled with too many high expectations. Then, for a while he had met a frail woman that had turned each passing day into something more than that. But now, with her gone, time is not relevant at all. Her time had stopped too early. He doesn't know what to think of time anymore. The only thing he remains to know is that there are still promises he has to fulfill.

As he notices that the young, black-haired woman is approaching his quarters in a hasty pace, he slowly slides close the door to the altar and his mask devoid of emotions falls into its place. The same mask he has worn for the many years that he has been the only heir to his family; it is also the same mask that practically is engraved on his face and rarely breaks apart on these days.

"Byakuya-niisama," the voice behind the paper wall trembles slightly, richly feminine and deep as it is. "May I come in?"

He casts one last look at the temple before he allows his little sister inside. The girl is bound to report her activities for her first day on the academy. He has decided that Rukia will not have the same flaws that her and him had foolishly let pass; he has chosen so the same day that he decided to adopt her. Rukia will be strong, so no one can hurt her, so she doesn't have to cry the way she did. Whether it's a mistaken belief of his or not, it is the only thing he is able to do now for her.

"Forgive me, Hisana."

And as more years come by, he continues to look at the picture in the altar and apologizes ever-so-softly to her.