"Okaa-san! Okaa-san!"

The soft pitter patter of feet echoed down the path, a small boy rushing towards the lady sitting beneath a tree, a broad grin on his face and a bunch of crumpled pink flowers clasped tightly in his hand.

"Yes, Bya-bo?" Her head was resting gently on the tree trunk, a smile playing on her lips.

"Okaaaaa-san," he wailed, face scrunching up in dismay, lips forming a little pout. "Don't call me Bya-bo!"

A light laugh escaped from her lips as she turned shining eyes to him. "And why not, my Bya-bo?"

"I'm not little! I'm a big boy now!" He stood feet apart, one hand indignant on his hip, grey eyes narrowed in irritation. The flowers were now clutched limply in the other hand, partially held behind his back, already forgotten.

"I'm going to be like Otou-san! See? Okaa-san! Do I look like Otou-san?" The scowl had been wiped from his face, and his eyes now lit up as he looked up at his mother. "Do I? Do I?" He hopped up and down, grinning broadly.

She stood up, laughing, a loud merry sound ringing out through the garden. "Of course you do, Bya-bo."

He pouted slightly at the nickname, but the grin quickly returned at the thought of being similar to his respected father.

"You're the best, okaa-san!" He opened his arms for a hug, and was quickly swept into one. Giggling as he was tickled slightly, his hands opened, and the crumpled flowers dropped gently to the floor.

"Oh? What's this, Byakuya?" She bent down to pick up the crumpled and fading bouquet.

"Uh? Oh…" His voice gradually quieted.

She turned to look back at him, and was rather surprised to see the happy face well on its way to dissolving into tears.

"What's wrong?" He murmured something into her haori, face drooping as he fell silent. Patting him gently on the back, she waited for him to quietly compose himself.

He sniffed, trying desperately to keep from crying. Otou-san had said that crying was no good. That crying was not befitting of the Kuchiki heir. And so, he would not cry. He sniffed again. The gentle patting was not really helping. All it did was make him feel worse. The flowers were supposed to be for her. And he had forgotten all about them! He blinked, trying to keep the tears in, gulping in air to try and calm himself down.

"They were s'pposed to be for you, okaa-san." He muttered, once he was as composed as he could be in the current state, squirming around in her arms and swiping at his eyes. "But now they're ugly."

She laughed, and he looked up from the small patch of grass he had been determinedly staring at, blinking in confusion, chewing on his lower lip.

"It's okay, Bya-bo." He blinked again, too confused to retort. "I think they look good."

A slow smile came back to his face. "Really?" A nod confirmed it, and he grinned, waving his hands to be put down on the ground. She looked on in amusement as he gathered up the few flowers she had missed, and pressed them into her hands. "There you go, okaa-san!"

"That's my Bya-bo." He beamed as she patted his head, not complaining like he used to. She took the flowers in one hand, and small fingers in the other, as they walked back to the house, him giggling, and she laughing.