Shortly after Byakuya met Penny in the plaza he sat writing in his daily log. Another day of administration, another quiet day on his estate. It felt empty knowing that Rukia was no longer there. While they went for long stretches not seeing each other in the maze of rooms on the estate, knowing she was there, his adopted sister, his family, had made the place warmer. He finished his private thoughts and placed his brush down in its rest, precisely next to the inkstone.

He took a deep breath digesting his day. He closed his eyes to mediate and make a decision. No one knew what thoughts he processed. He furrowed his brow and exhaled. He looked up across the fresh tatami, and out into the peaceful manicured garden outside. He closed his eyes and listened to the trickling of zen garden fountains just beyond the engawa. He came to a sudden decision. He felt the warmth of the setting sun on his face and a slight smile curved his lips.

He opened a small drawer in his desk and looked down at its contents. It was one of his most treasured possessions. It was irreplaceable. To the casual onlooker it was nothing all that special. Just a piece of paper, the words "To my son…" written in practiced artistic calligraphy. He reached in and lifted it out of the desk then casually flipped it over and looked at the broken wax of the Kuchiki's ancient family seal. Byakuya nodded to himself and slid the envelope into the folds of his haori.

Byakuya,

I don't know when you will receive this, or under what circumstances we will have parted. I hope it is after a long life of guidance, discipline, and love. I don't know what you have yet achieved, but I am proud of you already. The reason for this letter is that while I wish to be in your life for a long time, I understand that it cannot be indefinitely. I have a piece of knowledge I must share with you. Your grandfather also knows, but most others have already since passed and I fear you may never know the truth. I would like to apologize for being deceitful, but it was for the good of the clan.

The nobles are powerful in money, and politics, and influence, but our spirit power is dwindling. It is not unusual for spirit power to fluctuate, but there is usually one among each clan who rises above the others. Once in every 10 generations does a person of captain level power appear. Your grandfather was the last person who was born to the family that has that power, however he does fall short of previous generations. He holds his office mostly because of hard earned experience, not his level of power. I often fall short of my station as Vice Captain and am painfully aware that I have my position not because of skill but influence.

I have not failed to notice that I am not the only noble to lack in power. The other nobles too have lost their spirit. Isolating ourselves from commoners was a tactic to keep our bloodlines pure so to consolidate spirit power, but it seems to have had the opposite effect. The fourth noble house is close to extinction and may soon collapse for this very reason. The Kuchiki's could be next, and it could be blamed on my inability to properly serve the Spirit King. He will provide favor to a clan which will indirectly fill our coffers, but if we cannot deliver on our obligations as rulers of the Spirit World, he simply cannot continue to provide support. He cares not for gold, he cares not for politics, and he is immune to influence. The Spirit King cares only for our ability to maintain balance. We were plummeting, quietly and out of sight, but falling we were until you were born.

The events that I am about to describe to you were the greatest deceits of my lifetime. I did this to save the clan. I did this for our future. I did this for you. Please forgive me.

The Lady Kuchiki was my wife, and she bore me a son. Not long after he was born she took his life in a fit of madness. He was a beautiful boy who I adored. He was born with an acceptable amount of reiatsu and all the charms of an infant. I had all the affections a father could have for their child. The Lady Kuchiki did not fall ill as reported, but took her own life soon after.

The family was vulnerable for a number of reasons and I could hardly mourn the tragedy of these events openly. Her family was positioned to stamp out our clan. Your clan. We suspect they planted my wife here knowing of her sickness to ruin our reputation and replace us, by taking our spot among the four noble clans.

Then your mother joined our squad. Your true mother was a Shinigami not a princess.

Your mother was a strong woman. She was skilled and brilliant. She brought out strength and courage in me I did not think existed and I like to believe that I taught her new things as well. You have not come to know her, not because she passed away, but because we have deceived you. As the days pass and I hold you in my arms I go back and forth over whether the explicit truth matters. You are here with me, with your grandfather and you are my son, the product of millennia of Kuchikis from the first lonely soul to wander the streets of an undeveloped afterlife, to the current head of this very noble house. Kuchiki blood runs through your veins and your claim as it's family's head cannot be contested.

Your mother has a beauty all her own, though it is not something available to everyone. Her appearance may be jarring to some, but her presence is something to behold. She is full of contradictions and a fascinating character. Somewhere along in life she gained a practiced grace from the ladies of old, but she is true to her fiery nature. She is of the old world. The times before. Her power is ancient and her wildness is true and unique. Her ferocity, aggressiveness, and ruthlessness mirrors the height of her compassion and loyalty. I hope dearly she has passed these things along to you. It is this loyalty which makes me write this letter.

We are your parents, but your grandfather swore her to secrecy, and we took you into our home. She selflessly handed you over, knowing that we could give you all the experiences and resources, and opportunity she could not. I confess we planned it. We chose her purposefully for her skill and her face. Even if you were her spitting image, no one would ever know. She had been scarred as a child and is unfortunately unable to heal.

We invited her the estate under false circumstances and kept her hidden. When it became more obvious she was with child we welcomed her back to the guest house in the south east to finish her time and task. I had hoped she would have all the support we could provide, but the secret nature of this endeavor did not lend itself to much staff. This combined with her independent nature led to the extraordinary circumstances of your birth. She must have known she was in labor, but she said nothing and went out into the fields, alone, and spent the day and afternoon there. In the evening she sat at the foot of a tree in the great Sakura Colonnade and gave birth to you during a windstorm. We pieced this together only because a caretaker of the trees found the remains of your birth in front of the largest tree among them. Of course, the family played dumb as to why there was blood splattered about and attributed this to a wild animal.

I visited this place alone later and felt tremendous guilt. I promised to keep her secure but failed miserably. But this is where I learned the most important thing about her. I do have affection for her, and marvel at what she has to offer, but I certainly could never be her match. The world is unfair and strange and we could never be a long lasting couple. She cannot be held down and married like a pliant princess. She cannot be held where she doesn't want to be. I couldn't keep her in a room surrounded by security and servants, nevertheless in a lifelong contract full of complicated etiquette and noble tedium.

Perhaps someday your paths will cross. Your shared power may bring you together outside of the family efforts to prevent that. If perhaps you do meet her, please respect her. She has not had the chance to mother you in the conventional sense, but she gave you everything she had.

Please forgive us,

Kuchiki Soujun