Pairing: Byakuya Kuchiki x Ichigo Kurosaki

Music: Believe, by Cher

Word count: ~ 3,000

Rating: T

A/N: In my head, Ichigo seems to be permanently crushing on Renji, and forever getting his heart broken. No idea why.

Prompt 10: Lull and Storm

Ichigo knows that, while he was many things, selfish is not one of them.

He's rash, impulsive, blunt, and disrespectful—and there are probably many more adjectives that different people would apply to him, but no one he knows would call him selfish. Selfishness doesn't usually lead to fighting—and killing—a near-god for people he barely knows, simply to keep everyone around him safe.

The last time he had been selfish, his mother had died.

After that, Ichigo wasn't about to let his self-centeredness put anyone in danger ever again.

But, just for once, he wishes that he could be selfish, that he could go after something that he wants, for the sole purpose of possessing it, just because he wants it.

He won't, though.

It had started gradually, gradually enough that he almost didn't notice—but, however oblivious he is to others' feelings (and he isn't quite as oblivious as everyone seems to think. Honestly, Orihime couldn't have been less subtle if she had tried), he's quite aware of his own. He had acknowledged his attraction to the shinigami the moment they appeared in the world of the living, though that was a simple physical attraction and easily dismissed. Then, after they fought, after they nearly killed each other and recognized that their goals were in fact the same, attraction had deepened to something like admiration and affection. It strengthened as they fought together against Hollows, Arrancar, and Aizen, until they stormed Las Noches together and Ichigo could no longer deny that it was truly love.

He is in love with Abarai Renji.

There isn't anything specific that makes him feel that way. He loves Renji's smile (broad and flashing strong, even white teeth), his laugh (boisterous, bubbling over with mirth and good humor), his grace (odd for someone so large and muscular, so much bigger than Ichigo's slim 5'9"), and his ferocious intensity (in fighting, in practice, in conversation, everywhere). The brightness of his hair, his sense of humor, his russet eyes, the faint hint of Rukongai drawl that remained in his voice, just everything.

And Renji never sees him as anything more than a friend.

Moreover, Renji is absolutely, hopelessly, utterly in love with Rukia.

And, if it isn't enough to watch Renji make doe eyes at her, the noble girl also happens to be the only one who's realized Ichigo's feelings. She hadn't slept in his closet (and isn't that an ironic, uncomfortable turn of phrase) for so many months without learning something about him, he supposes, but it's still awkward at times. Even so, having someone to be open and honest with outweighs the embarrassment, and Ichigo is pathetically grateful that he has someone he could confess to, rant to, and commiserate with. Rukia was, indeed, a good friend.

It doesn't ease the pain completely, but it helps a bit, especially when Renji is being particularly unsubtle about watching Rukia and mooning after her. Rukia, for her part, is uncomfortable being caught in the middle of a love triangle, and uncertain of whether she should step out of the running.

But, because he isn't selfish—can't force himself to be, even for this—Ichigo won't have it. He knows that she cares for Renji just as much as Renji cares for her, and Ichigo isn't about to get in the way of that. Loving from a distance is all he allowed himself, never getting too close, never stepping away completely so that Renji doesn't realize that something has changed.

It's agony, watching their slow, hesitant courtship and wishing with everything he has that he could be there instead. He tries not to be jealous of Rukia, or resentful of Renji, but he often can't help it, especially when the sotaicho's ruling allows the Vizards and other Soul Society exiles to return—on the condition that Ichigo also reside in the Seireitei and take command of the Fifth, left without a captain since Aizen's desertion. Ichigo hardly minds helping the Vizards, Urahara, Tessai, Ururu, Jinta, and Yoruichi, but being forced into constant close proximity to the happy couple is excruciating. Distance had dulled the pain, but being here, with them, every day—it's like having a boulder on his heart, crushing it a bit more with each passing second.

But, because he can't bring himself to be selfish, can't bring himself to break into their bright, blissful world and darken it with unrequited feelings, he says nothing, and quietly watches over them as they fumble their way towards a working relationship.

He's been expecting it, really, ever since the first time he looked at Renji and realized his feelings for the lieutenant.

What he hadn't expected, however, is the way the pain of watching them begins to fester a little more each day, or the growing distance he feels from everyone, which has been steadily increasing since his defeat of Aizen in Hueco Mundo after Orihime's capture. No one seems to notice his detachment, his reserve, and that just pushes him even farther away. His division is well trained, well disciplined, and in constant awe of him. The other captains are either resentful of his power, angry at his gaining such an esteemed position, or just plain insane (namely Zaraki and Kurotsuchi). The lieutenants are also in awe, or terrified of his power. His only close friends are utterly caught up in each other. He is completely alone.

Slowly, day by day, Ichigo feels himself growing just a little bit colder.

Soon, he thinks, there will be nothing but left but ice.

Perhaps ice isn't so bad, Ichigo reflects, plastering a delighted smile over his shattering heart and burning eyes. After all, it gives him the composure he needs for this confrontation—one that he should have, admittedly, prepared himself for long ago. But he hadn't been able to kill that last dreg of hope, that last slender thread of maybe, someday that had remained despite all evidence to the contrary.

"I'm really happy for you, Renji," he hears himself say—distantly, as though it is not him speaking at all.

Renji beams at him, and Ichigo has to suppress the urge to grab him and kiss him, or punch him, or stab Zangetsu through his foot. Pain echoes through his chest, remote but all too intense, as the redheaded fukutaicho laughs, a boom of pure joy and undiluted relief.

"Yeah," he agrees breathlessly. "I can't believe she said yes! We're gonna be a family, Ichigo! She's gonna be my wife!" Overcome, he spins around the room in something vaguely reminiscent of Ikkaku's lucky dance, still bellowing out that laugh that makes Ichigo's heart hurt with want. "Rukia's gonna marry me, Ichigo!"

Logically, Ichigo knows that nothing will come of his feelings, even if he blurts them out right now and tells Renji everything that he has been feeling for the last three years. If anything, such an action would increase the distance between them, open their friendship up to awkward pauses and strange gaps that had never existed before. There is no benefit in being selfish now, no gain to be had from confessing anything.

Even so, Ichigo has to clench his jaw and bite his tongue to hold in the words.

Unable, suddenly, to stand another moment of this agony, this proof beyond any that he is alone and will remain that way, Ichigo stands and picks up his haori. He pulls it on, ignoring the confused and slightly hurt look Renji is sending him.

"Ichigo?" Renji says suspiciously, almost warily.

Ichigo manages to dredge up another smile and gestures to the clock on the wall. "Sorry, Renji, but I think I'm late for the officers' meeting for the Fifth. We'll have to celebrate later. Yumichika will kill me if I'm not there."

Even Renji winces slightly at the thought of Ichigo's fukutaicho getting angry. As much as he had loved the Eleventh, Yumichika had agreed—as a personal favor to Ichigo, which he never lets anyone forget—to become the Fifth's lieutenant. He had exceeded everyone's expectations, even those of Ichigo, who had asked him personally. The former fifth seat is a genius at all things clerical or official—understandable, since he had been the one responsible, in most ways that counted, for keeping his former division running. He's doing well in the Fifth, Ichigo thinks almost fondly, but his temper lets no one forget where he served before, and not even his captain is safe.

"All right," the redhead agrees easily, unaware of just how deep that easy dismissal strikes his friend. "Catch ya later, then?" He's out the door before Ichigo can offer even a word of agreement.

Silence falls in the tiny apartment, and Ichigo lets it, taking some sort of masochistic pleasure in the complete absence of hominess that he's managed to foster. The room still looks as sterile and generic as it had the day he moved in, and somehow even more barren. He hasn't touched anything but the postage-stamp kitchen and the closet-like bedroom, and those only in the direst of situations. The officer's mess is good enough when he's hungry—even though it reminds him unhappily of high school and being an outsider there, too—and he has a futon in his office for the nights Yumichika doesn't chase him away from the Fifth.

Renji and Rukia don't know about his living arrangements. Hell, Renji's never been in his apartment before today, and he didn't notice anything when he was.

Somehow, that feels lonelier than anything else.

If Ichigo is the storm, fierce and powerful and godly in its massive presence, toppling kings without a thought, then Byakuya is the lull, deceptively beautiful and peaceful, hiding a killing intent strong enough to bring down mountains. They seem like opposites, forever opposed, contradicting and counter-arguing each other's points in captains' meetings, one cool and calm and the other fiery and passionate. One fights hand-to-hand and the other at a distance; one holds honor above all else and the other holds loyalty. Ichigo is the primal beauty of a hurricane, and Byakuya is the breath before and after it, exquisite destruction and elegant death.

But they are far more similar than they are different. Both honor family, and love deeply. Both have lost someone dear, and changed themselves because of it.

Byakuya considers this, watching the slim figure of Kurosaki Ichigo make its way around the edge of Ukitake's lake. It is a thought that has been in his mind for a while now, ever since he first looked at the one-time ryoka and saw a powerful, competent man instead of a foolish boy with too much strength and rashness. Since the first time he looked at Kurosaki and saw Ichigo, a beautiful, desirable captain of the Gotei 13.

There is no way he can go back to seeing simply Kurosaki now, as much as he tries.

He has kept his sudden interest secret, of course. It does not become a captain to pine like a lovesick maid. But sometimes, sometimes, he tires of the façade of emotionless, because he feels just as much as anyone, and can never show it. Only Ichigo can ever make him lose his mask, can break the shell of ice around his heart and make him real.

Knowing this, it is all Byakuya can do not to walk up to Ichigo and confess anything, no matter their location or audience. Perhaps a large enough crowd will pressure the redheaded captain into agreeing to allow Byakuya to court him. Perhaps, if Byakuya asks him in the middle of a captains' meeting, he will say yes.

More than anything, Byakuya wants him to say yes.

It takes a while for Ichigo to notice, but when he does, he is shocked.

Byakuya is…

Flirting.

Oh, it's subtle. Were he not paying such close attention—which he is, because Byakuya is still one of the captains Ichigo respects most, and his opinions on matters always influence Ichigo's views, either for or against—then he would miss it completely. Byakuya doesn't flirt like a teenaged girl, the type of approach that Ichigo is used to, but like a man, sure of himself and certain of his station.

It starts with the boughs of cherry blossoms on his desk.

They're waiting when Ichigo gets there in the morning, having been kicked out a few hours previously to get some sleep in a planned rebellion by his lieutenant, third seat, and fourth seat. The six branches are just sitting there, perfectly arranged in a glass bowl, filling the air with the sweet scent of spring. Yumichika swears that he has seen no one come in or go out, and as his desk is directly in front of the door and he flutters his eyelashes slightly when he lies, Ichigo is inclined to believe him. There is no trace of reiatsu in the air, which is even more astonishing, and nothing except for the sakura blossoms to indicate a visitor.

Ichigo writes it off as a mystery that he will not solve, and goes back to his daily routine.

The cherry blossoms stay where they are.

Then come the other things, little gifts that are things Ichigo has been needing or wanting, but has not secured or cannot secure for himself. A new belt to hold Zangetsu, woven of the finest, strongest thread. A new calligraphy set, when he has been using Aizen's old one for months now. A bottle of what Shunsui assures him is incredibly fine sake. A book on the history of Soul Society. Fine green tea. A new Fifth Division seal.

The gifts are incredible, beautiful, expensive—and, above all, extraordinarily touching, because they mean that someone has seen Ichigo, that they are watching and caring enough to learn what he does and does not have, what he absently reaches for during the day but does not find.

Someone cares.

Maybe that is why his crushed heart revives, ever so slightly, whenever he finds a new gift left somewhere inconspicuous, but where he will be sure to find it.

He discovers that it is Byakuya leaving them purely by chance, spotting the noble flash-stepping out of his office as he wakes up, out of sight, on his futon one morning.

It is stunning, shocking, and more flattering than anything Ichigo can remember. He has never entertained romantic thoughts of Byakuya, because he has been in love with Renji for so long, and because the Kuchiki seems as untouchable as a distant star. But now, to see him do this, to hear the soft undertone of banter in their back-and-forth arguments, Ichigo wants what Byakuya can give him, wants the stability and certainty that Byakuya wears like a heavy robe. Perhaps, with a man like Byakuya, his heart will have a chance to heal and recover.

It is astonishing that, even though he has clung to the idea of Renji for so long, this small show of kindness, of interest, makes him willing to put it all aside and go to the one who will most likely make him happy.

He has not truly been happy since he left the human world behind.

Somehow, Byakuya cannot bring himself to be surprised when Ichigo is waiting for him the morning he goes to deliver his next gift—a kimono, this time, along with a request for Ichigo to meet him under the cherry trees in the grove just outside Seireitei's walls. He places the silk-wrapped package on the desk that Ichigo is leaning on and takes a half-step back, waiting to see what the other captain will do.

He expects disgust, or horror, or perhaps even regretful rejection.

What Ichigo does is step forward and kiss him gently, one hand resting lightly on his shoulder. He tastes of crisp green tea and silky honey, with an undertone of power that is purely Ichigo. When he draws back, his coral lips are fuller and slightly darker, and his eyes hold something close to gratitude.

"Thank you," he says, and Byakuya instinctually knows that it isn't just for the gift. Ichigo says no more, however, but instead hold out his hand and a wrapped package of his own. Curious, Byakuya accepts the thing, and opens it—a scarf of the finest silk, folded into a neat square that displays the cherry blossoms and leaves painted onto it. He smiles slightly, because it has been a long time since someone has given him a gift with Byakuya in mind, instead of Captain Kuchiki or Lord Kuchiki, and Ichigo has obviously selected this for the man, not the captain or lord.

"You are most welcome," he responds, bowing his head slightly. Then, gathering the courage that has deserted him for the first time in memory, he asks quietly, "Kurosaki Ichigo, would you do me the honor of allowing me to court you?"

Ichigo watches him for a few heart-wrenching moments, then dips his head in a brief nod.

"Yes," he answers. But his voice breaks slightly over the word, and he looks away, the words tumbling out more quickly, though they are still understandable. "I can't return your feelings right away. I'm…I'm in love with someone who doesn't love me back, and I can't get over them in a day, or even a month, but I will do my best."

Byakuya is torn between incredulity that someone could have this strong, exquisite creature's regard and take no notice of it, and jealousy that Ichigo loves someone who is not him. But he understands that this is sudden, and utterly unexpected, and allows for that.

"Very well," he agrees. "Regardless, I will win you over."

Ichigo smiles at him, ever so slightly.

"Yes, I think you will."