This one's been in my archives for a while; I hadn't posted it because there's just something about it that just doesn't quite satisfy me, but every time I reread it I think 'wow, this is good, why am I keeping it locked up?' So maybe you guys can either enlighten me as to either exactly what is wrong or the fact that I'm a paranoid idiot... or both. Enjoy!

A short character study of Byakuya and his evolution from defiant, free-spirited child to emotionless warrior, and the reasons behind the changes. Some artistic license is taken with the chronology of Ichigo's fight; please just roll with it and enjoy the story.

Can be read either as Bya-Ren friendship or pre-yaoi, whichever you prefer. Also a hint of Ren-Ruki friendship or romance, your preference.

CHANGE

'Change,' Yoroichi laughed to him as they hurtled over the rooftops of the Seireitei, their Shunpo blurring them to the sight of anyone shy of a ranking officer. 'Change, become faster and stronger. Become better and learn to challenge me.'

And so the very young Byakuya practiced his Shunpo, becoming faster and stronger, and his resentment over Yoroichi grew, day by day, because he could never catch her.

'Change,' Ginrei urged him quietly, silver eyes intent as his grandson demonstrated his skills. 'Learn control and dignity, learn distance and reservation. Learn to be a noble and a leader that the Kuchiki Clan can be proud of.'

And so the young Byakuya slowly became reserved and dignified, bearing up under the incredible burden of his blood, and soon the Elders of the Kuchiki Clan began to whisper that he would be a good leader. Every time, Byakuya pretended he did not overhear their whispers, and retreated to his rooms to meditate because he was not allowed to cry.

'Change,' Ukitake and Kyouraku chided him gently, their smiles teasing and affectionate and only a little condescending. 'You'll have to be someone that the troops look up to, someone they respect and are willing to follow. You need to learn to keep a cool head and lead them through any situation, no matter how dire.'

And so Byakuya, still young but much older than he once was, became unshakable, never showing shock or dismay or fear, and led the groups he was assigned to lead through boring patrols and terrifying Hollow attacks without a single change of expression.

By that time, the lessons of nobility had taken too firm a hold on him for him to listen to the troops' whispers, that Kuchiki-sanseki must have a heart of stone.

'Change,' Hisana whispered to him, her voice trembling and broken as she lay dying in his arms. 'Become something you are not and can never be, because I cannot love the man you are.'

And so Byakuya, no longer young, buried the only woman he had ever loved and went on with a life of nothing, all joy swept away by the knowledge that he was something that did not deserve love. He threw himself into his duties with a ferocious single-mindedness, his demeanor so frigid and unyielding that it terrified his subordinates, and never realized that it was his own actions that made them fear him.

'Change,' Yamamoto-soutaichou ordered him gravely. 'Accept the white haori of a Captain, accept the duties and responsibilities you have been trained and prepared for all your life. Change, and become a leader of your Grandfather's esteemed Sixth Division, one of the finest in the Gotei.'

And so Byakuya changed once again, silently assuming the mantle of leadership in a ceremony that should have brought him joy; this, this haori, this Squad, was the reason he had trained and fought and mastered so much. His Grandfather's legacy, handed to him so young, because he was so strong.

Senbonzakura's quiet 'Congratulations, Byakuya-sama,' rang empty in the bleak hollowness that was his heart.

'Change!' Ichigo screamed at him, defiant and furious on the other end of ringing soulsteel. 'How dare you not defend someone you were sworn to protect? How dare you not love someone who should be so precious to you?'

And Byakuya parried his strokes and dismissed his fury, telling himself over and over again that a mere human, this little nothing child who had not a drop of noble blood in his veins, could never understand the duties and obligations that bound those of noble birth.

'I will defeat you,' Abarai Renji said simply, staring at Byakuya with defiance in his eyes.

Renji was the antithesis of everything Byakuya had ever been taught. He was wild, vibrant, feral, a stark contrast to the cultured, monotonous nobility of his Captain. And yet, he was loved. Loved by his fellow Lieutenants, by their underlings, even by the Captains.

He was loved by Rukia, who but for her voice was Hisana's perfect ghost.

Why was it a man who was so opposite from everything Byakuya had ever learned had the one thing that Byakuya had always desired?

And when he finally faced Renji across their swords, expecting to hear that lifelong refrain from that grinning mouth, he was surprised.

"I will save Rukia," Renji said, as his sword did the unthinkable and drove Byakuya to his knees. I will change. I will become stronger and faster. I will become more than I am.

I will take the burden from your shoulders. I will do what you cannot. I will be what you cannot.

Byakuya watched silently as Renji crumpled to the ground, the last word on his failing lips a curse - for Byakuya, for his own weakness, it was impossible to say. The blood his subordinate had shed burned against Byakuya's skin. As he swept the scarf from his shoulders, releasing it to settle across Renji's still form, Byakuya exhaled a slow breath.

"Congratulations," Byakuya said softly, turning away from the lifeless form of his Lieutenant. "Your fang... actually reached me."

Many hours later, sitting in his room in the Fourth Division, Byakuya stared silently at the wall opposite his bed. The room was warm with the air wafting through the open window and the gentle pulse of reiatsu from the man sitting by the door.

The scrape of the knife through the block of soft wood continued, uninterrupted this time by intrusions, until the tense silence that had reigned after Ichigo's departure was finally broken by Byakuya's voice.

"Throughout my life, people have been telling me to change."

The knife stuttered, slipped, and jerked through the wood to bite deeply into the flesh of Renji's thumb. He cursed, loudly, dropping the half-carved block of wood to the floor and sticking the injured digit in his mouth. His attention, however, turned sharply towards his Captain, eyes questioning even as his mouth worked to soothe his wounded thumb.

Eyes still firmly on the wall, Byakuya continued, slowly. "Every person I have known has urged me to change, become something I was not." A slow breath. "You are the first person to accept me as I am."

Shock slipped the bleeding thumb from Renji's mouth; wide-eyed, he stared at his Captain.

"Taichou, I -"

"It was... a tremendous burden removed from my shoulders, to realize that," Byakuya continued. Renji stared at him, dumbfounded, heedless of the line of blood running down his hand.

"You have changed yourself drastically so that I need not. For that, I must thank you."

"I... don't know what to say..." The thin trail of blood, still flowing steadily, crossed his wrist and began down his forearm.

"Although I do not suggest you forget my words, perhaps it is best if you excuse them as a result of the medications Unohana has insisted on administering me," Byakuya suggested, fighting down a smirk for the first time in many years.

"Ahhh..." The blood reached the once-pristine sleeve of Renji's shitagi, staining the white fabric crimson. "That might be best, sir, yes."

"You should have that attended to," Byakuya remarked calmly, his eyes never leaving the wall opposite his bed.

"Yes, sir. Thank you," Renji answered awkwardly, wrapping his thumb in his opposing sleeve as he rose so that he did not drip blood on Unohana's pristine floors.

"You need not thank me, Renji," Byakuya replied, shifting down in the bed and turning his back to the room.

"Ahh, right, sir. Sleep well," came the nervous reply. A second later, the door was carefully pulled closed and Renji's firm footsteps retreated down the hallway.

Head pillowed on his hand, Byakuya gazed at the wall beneath the window ledge and slowly closed his eyes. "Thank you, Renji."

When he woke again, the room was cool and silent, the pulsing warmth of Renji's energy missing.

However, Renji's finished carving had been settled on the windowsill next to his bed. Sitting up, Byakuya picked up the delicate work with careful fingers, surprised at the solidity of the piece in his hand.

In order to leave it on the windowsill, Renji must have leaned over his sleeping form. The fact that Byakuya hadn't awoken at his presence meant that his trust in his Lieutenant was absolute.

Gentle fingers ran over the perfectly rendered carving of a sakura branch in full bloom, the mastery of the work exquisite and delicate. It was a gift more than fit for nobility; never before had he realized the depth of Renji's talent. The smallest of the rendered blossoms had been stained red by what Byakuya knew was a single drop of Renji's blood, surrendered willingly to grace this tribute to his Captain.

Renji had changed himself, surrendered himself, given himself, all for the sake of a Captain who had never acknowledged him until Renji had fallen all but lifeless at his feet.

Rolling onto his back on the soft mattress, he carefully settled the carving over his heart as his eyes slipped closed again. And, for the first time in his life, Kuchiki Byakuya willingly resolved to change.

~ END ~