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Consolation Prize (of Victory)	By : blackfox1 Category: Bleach > Het - Male/Female Views: 5760 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, any of the characters mentioned here and I'm certainly not in this for the money.

Chapter List
- 3
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Consolation Prize

Interval 2: Remembrance (Isolation)
In which a shopping excursion goes delightfully awry…
“Vindula, put that down and let me… oof… get your sandals on!”

“’Ji-Ji! Play!”

“Hey now, no…ow… climbing on me when…”

“’Dula FLY!!”

The small bundle of energy he was trying to wrestle into her clothing launched herself from her perch on the apex of Renji’s bent-over spine and a small breeze buffeted him as she fiercely beat the wings that sprouted from between her shoulder blades. Try as she might, the little girl’s attempt at flight ended as it always did, with gravity the victor. Sometimes Renji wondered if the child continually tried this just so that her caregiver could catch her before she landed on her head. This time he seized her about eight inches from the floor. Scooping her up, he sat down, cross-legged and deftly slipped a pair of small sandals on her feet. Not that she would probably be walking far; he’d end up carrying both children to and from the market today and her Hierro would protect her toes if she decided to go barefoot, but it was better safe than sorry with Vindula.

“Stop it, ‘Dula. Jii-ji has to dress us.”

The little boy sitting in the rocking chair, swinging his already-shod feet, gave his sister an exasperated glare. “We hafta’ get clothes. You c’n fly at th’park later.”

Vindula tossed her head of black curls and pouted up at her older-by-just-six-minutes brother, but allowed Renji to finish fastening all of the buttons on her dress and tying her obi securely behind her, a job made more complicated because of her enthusiastically beating wings. The redhead wondered where she got all of her vitality. It took at least three cups of strong morning tea to dispel the fog in his brain on an average day and he wasn’t yet at a stage of fatigue that he would consider drinking that vile concoction called ‘coffee’. If he could just bottle whatever force gave the little girl her boundless enthusiasm and spark, he’d be as rich as that fat bastard Omaeda had been, or at least, he’d finally be able to keep up with her.

“There we go,” he muttered, as he dealt with the last fastener.

He hoisted her up above his head and heard his charge giggle. She threw her arms up in the air and beat her wings as hard as she could, eyes closed and a look of elation on her face. It was their usual ‘going out’ ritual. Vindula would pretend to soar through the blue sky, while safely held in Renji’s grip. Then he placed her, piggyback style, on his shoulders. It allowed her wings free movement while he walked and she loved the view. Turning towards the chair, Renji held out one hand to Abisara, who grabbed hold of Renji’s black forearm guard. The former Fukutaichou swung the little boy up and tucked him into the crook of his arm.

It never ceased to amaze Renji that, even though they had shared Nemu’s womb (or, whatever her creator had chosen to give her – he tried not to think too much about it for his own mental well-being) and had hatched on the same day, the twins were as different from one another as summer was from winter. There were the obvious differences: their genders, hair and eye color and the physical manifestations of their Arrancar halves. However, those were superficial; anyone looking at the two while they were together could see they were siblings. They’d come out of their wrappings already crawling and Szayel, ever the boastful father, attributed that to a pregnancy that had lasted much longer than the other two he’d studied, as well as the superiority of his own genetic contribution.

Renji, bound to his agreement to the pink-haired ego-with-feet, just barely managed to keep from rolling his eyes at that one. Fortunately, Karin had done it for him.

They were unlike any other children Renji had ever come across and that included Ajuga and Diaemus. At first, he thought that was due to the older children’s human mothers, but as he grew a little more comfortable around them, he had to admit that the little winged coppertop that Orihime had birthed was far more like his Arrancar sire than his sweet-but-flighty mother. Ajuga, on the other hand, seemed to have a good fifty/fifty split going as far as her personality. The tail, fur, ears and the mask faded into the background the more he learned about her, until all he could see was what she’d inherited from her mother and her un-met uncle.

Kurosaki Ichigo was a subject best left alone as far as Ajuga and Karin were concerned and he knew better than to even think about the guy during the few times in the last year that he’d been in Grimmjow’s presence. Renji enjoyed breathing, after all.

Abisara, he feared, was going to be a boy who badly needed someone to teach him to throw rocks, rather than look at them through a microscope. If the child had a choice, his toys would be lab beakers, forceps, scalpels, test tubes and the spare minicentrifuge Szayel kept in Laboratory 4. The last one Renji only knew about because he’d found it hidden among the little boy’s blankets when he’d gone to tuck the child in for the night. Apparently, he’d wrestled it into the nursery with him when Renji wasn’t looking and put up a fuss when his caretaker tried to take it away. From what Renji could discern Abisara found the sound the machine made soothing and drifted off to sleep curled up next to it. Weren’t normal children supposed to have teddy bears for that sort of thing? He’d mentioned it to Nemu, who let Szayel know about the issue, who promptly crowed with delight and sent a few of his lower-ranking Division members to the Living World to pick up one of the newer models for his, as he put it, ‘budding genius’.

As much as he loved the boy, Renji still found him unnerving. He’d started speaking just after his first birthday. What worried Renji was that Abisara hadn’t bothered with the usual ‘baby-talk’. No, Szayel’s progeny had surprised him one day, while he was picking up toys by uttering, not his first word, but his first sentence. His green eyes missed nothing and the redhead half-expected to enter the nursery one day to find Abisara dismantling the furniture or worse, the lighting systems, to find out how they operated.

Of course, with Abisara, Renji at least had an idea of what he could expect. Whoever coined the phrase ‘like father like son’ did so with Abisara and Szayel in mind. The only thing Abisara lacked was his father’s sense of theatrics. Vindula, on the other hand, kept her guardian guessing from minute to minute as to what she would do next.

Renji would have been the first to admit that, aside from his time with Rukia, he had almost no experience with small female children of any race. Yachiru was the closest thing to a little girl he’d known as an adult, and he was certain that most little girls, Shinigami or human, weren’t inclined to tear down buildings with massive outbursts of reiatsu during a candy-fueled rampage through the countryside. Given his current position, he tried very hard to wipe any and all recollections he had of Nel as an Arrancar child from his brain. That left him mining the memories he had of Rukia when they’d roamed the 78th District together, barelegged and scowling, full of clever ideas as to the best way to pilfer the storekeepers there out of their edible wares.

He couldn’t compare Vindula to Rukia though. Rukia had been a tough, resourceful little street-rat hell-bent on survival. Vindula, in contrast, was the well-loved, well-cared-for half-Arrancar offspring of the Seventh Espada and the still-feared daughter of Mad Kurotsuchi-Taichou. She wanted for nothing, except for the next experience that could make her smile. One moment, she’d be toddling after butterflies across the grass of the local park and the next she’d be begging Renji to catch one of the silvery fish swimming in the park’s fountain, only to turn and make for the nearest puddle of mud to play, regardless of what might be at the bottom of it. He feared Vindula would give him a case of whiplash one day.

He found her attention span alarmingly short and her impulse control almost non-existent and the entire world seemed to delight her in ways that Renji found perplexing. Everything in the Seireitei seemed to be a toy to her and she appeared determined to play with everything at least once. If he was worried that Abisara wasn’t getting the full ‘boyhood’ experience, then Vindula seemed to be intent on making up for it. The only thing that his childhood friend Rukia and his small female charge had in common was their utter fearlessness. In that, they were kindred spirits. What Renji knew was that they adored him and Kami help him, he adored them back, fiercely so, as strange as they were.

“Market! Market! Market!” Vindula enthusiastically chanted as they made their way out of the Science and Research Division’s door, past the compound gate and into the streets.

It was very early spring and, while the mornings were nippy, by this time of day he didn’t think the children would need outerwear. It must be nice having a Hierro, he grumbled inwardly. He, on the other hand, wore two thinner wool layers beneath his uniform’s kosode. A cloak would be awkward, given Vindula’s preferred spot on his shoulders. Renji thought he’d figured out why most of the pictures he’d ever seen depicting governesses and nannies, mostly from Western books, made them look fifty pounds overweight, not counting the frilly caps and aprons. Most of that bulk, he believed, had to be layers upon layers of insulating cloth, covered in a waterproof black dress.

Thankfully, his take on it was at least a little more masculine.

The garment district of the Rukongai consisted of street upon street of stalls of various sizes, from small, four-person shacks selling tiny hair combs to grand stalls with numerous rooms that one could wander in for hours, looking at and trying on pre-made garments. One could find almost anything one desired to drape across one’s body here: simple gi, cotton tunics of varying weights and fabrics, to the most expensively made and lavishly embroidered robes and kimonos. If one couldn’t find what one wanted off the rack, the numerous stalls to the west had bolts upon bolts of all sorts of fabrics. There were heavy cottons and medium weight, slubbed silks for work clothes, silk woven finely enough that one could read a poem through it, brocades with embroidery so beautiful a buyer might be tempted to hang the stuff as art instead of taking a pair of scissors to it, and wools to keep the winter chill away. All could be had for the right price.

The stalls to the east sold adornments, scarves, jewelry, obis, ties, and footwear. Here and there, throughout the entire place, tailors and seamstresses set up their shops, ready to turn a length of silk from the cloth merchants into a suitable outfit, alter a must-have kimono to fit its owner properly, or repair a beloved garment, giving it a few more years. With winter officially over and the as-yet-unopened sakura blossoms throughout each of the Seireitei’s public parks serving as the unofficial start to the season, the garment market had sprung back to life in the last week. Its streets were a wash of color and pattern, a riotous assault on eyes grown used to winter’s muted palette.

For Renji, the place wasn’t as nostalgic as the regular markets throughout the Rukongai. When he was younger, the preferred method of obtaining clothing amongst their little pack of children had been stealing pieces from the less guarded clotheslines, lifting them as needed when a garment got too small or in Renji’s case, ended up with more rips than could be mended. Nevertheless, it was outside of the walls that guarded the inner courts of the Seireitei and as such, it was a break from the monotony of the world inside with its look-alike red tile roofs and whitewashed walls.

It was this very variety, and all of the beautiful, glittering things for sale that made Renji stop a few blocks before the three of them got there. He let Abisara down and Vindula clambered down herself when Renji knelt to adjust Abisara’s shirt. He took the opportunity to look both of his charges in the eyes. Brown met green and gold and he put on expression that let them know he meant business.

“Okay. We’re going to get the clothes on your mother’s list. I want each of you to grab a hand…” and here he waggled all ten of his fingers in front of them “…and don’t let go. Especially you, Vindula,” he added, turning his full attention on her. “This isn’t the park. It’s crowded and noisy, there are loads of people, and some of them might not be nice. So you aren’t allowed to wander off if you see something you like.”

She squirmed but nodded, casting a longing look over her shoulder at the brightly festooned merchants’ booths and stalls. Renji then looked at her brother, who quickly schooled his features.

“No smirking, Abisara. I have a job for you. You need to watch your sister while I deal with the merchants. Otherwise…” and here, he let his tattooed eyebrows come together in what he hoped was a menacing frown, “…no one gets any new clothes AND we won’t go to the park afterwards to see the sakura trees.”

He had to give Szayel’s children their due; they knew a real threat from him when they heard it. Vindula’s lower lip quivered, but she stayed quiet. Abisara, on the other hand, made a face.

“’Dula’ll just forget and grab stuff anyway… why do I hafta watch her?”

The little boy gave his sister a sullen glare. She stuck out her tongue in response and Renji knew if he didn’t want an escalation, he’d have to appeal to the boy’s pride as the eldest.

“Because, that’s what big brothers do, that’s why! It’s an important job!”

He reached out and tousled the child’s pink hair. Abisara sniffed and tried to comb it back into place with his fingers, in a gesture that mimicked his father, the skeptical look in his green eyes telling Renji that he wasn’t quite convinced that hanging on to his sibling ought to be his problem. Then Renji sighed, realizing that neither of the children, denizens of the monotone corridors of the Science and Research Division, were going to have an easy time remaining focused.

“Abisara. Why don’t you hang onto Vindula’s left hand and I’ll hang onto her right, and we’ll make sure she stays with us.”

That would give Renji a free hand to conduct business. With Abisara ready to play the snitch if Vindula did forget and make a beeline for the closest shiny object, he stood a better chance of intercepting her. “I’m going to trust you, Abisara. You’re a whole six minutes older you know.”

The flattery finally worked and Renji swore he saw the boy straighten up a little.

“Alright, ‘Ji-ji.”

Renji nodded back, pulled the list from his inner robe and looked it over. Nothing on it surprised him. Most of the items listed were simple necessities, such as larger versions of the clothes that the children already had, summer-weight items, underwear, tabi for both children, some hair ties for Vindula and a note to make sure that the fabric was sturdy enough to withstand whatever the children decided to throw at it. Below that were a few amounts that had nothing to do with the children. His clothing allowance was small, but then, the usual Shinigami uniforms, shihakusho weren’t terribly expensive. He’d be able to pick up two more of his usual black-and-white ensembles, some extra underwear and this time he’d be sure to pick up enough hair ties to keep his idiotic mane out of his face.

Vindula had only recently discovered that she could tie her hair up in all sorts of unusual configurations. Since his own hair tie was often the closest one available, especially if she was on his shoulders, his hair ties often turned into her hair ties as soon as her little fingers figured out the knots. He was going to make sure that she at least had a supply of her own to play with. The last item on the list was a sum meant for spending on lunch. He doubted any of the eating establishments in the garment district proper would be able to feed three for that amount, but there were other places in the Rukongai, in the better-class districts, where the street-food was less expensive and far less fussy. He’d arrange to have their purchases delivered to the Division Headquarters and then feed the twins after they finished with the shopping.

“Good kid! Now let’s go.”

Straightening, Renji took hold of Vindula’s small hand and made sure Abisara had a firm grip on his sister. Then he took a deep breath and began the short march into what he figured was going to be a very shiny lion’s den.

They managed to surprise him yet again. While he dealt with the more mundane items on Nemu’s list, the twins contented themselves with trying to take in everything they saw, their eyes as round as moons. He heard Vindula whisper ‘Pretty!’ and ‘Oh!’ at least ten times a minute, but she kept her hand in his. He even heard Abisara whisper ‘Wow!’ while passing a booth full of silks embroidered in a number of different feather patterns. Renji found that his ‘credit’ as he’d come to regard the card he carried, went a bit further than he expected it to go. He also had to take into account that his charges weren’t going to stay this size for long. Nearly two, they looked closer to four-year-old children. Thankfully, they were far more ‘human’ looking than either Ajuga or Diaemus. They were also attractive children. That helped a greatly when dealing with the more skittish of the tradesmen when he went to choose their summer clothing.

They spent at least two hours finding clothing that would serve when the summer heat rolled around again and when Vindula complained that the clothes were ‘baggy’ and hung too low, Renji gently reminded her that she would grow taller by the time she had to wear them. Thankfully, the shop he’d chosen to frequent for the children’s regular wear had an on-staff seamstress that took one look at Vindula’s wings, squealed with delight and agreed to modify each dress and outfit to accommodate them. The difficulty with Vindula was simply telling her she couldn’t have one of each color. As far as Renji was concerned, as long as the clothing was sturdy, easily washed and somewhat stain-resistant, it was fine by him. Abisara, thankfully, had simpler tastes. He insisted, in his little voice, that white with black trim was just fine with him and that if it looked like his father’s clothing, he would wear it. Inwardly, Renji cringed, but only because he knew what a pain it would be to keep that clothing white.

With the list nearly completed, Renji decided to handle the issue of hair ties. He made the last of the delivery arrangements for the children’s garments, waited until Vindula stopped waving goodbye to the still-besotted seamstress and took the girl’s hand in his.

“We only have a few more stops. Then we can have lunch,” he told them.

“YAY! Lunch!” Vindula responded gleefully and Abisara looked down at his sandals, scuffing the sole against the paving stones.

“Good. Can it be taiyaki?”

Now the kid was speaking his language. He gave the little boy a big grin and held out his other hand.

“Sure, for dessert! We’ll find a stand as soon as we get some things for your sister and some spare clothes for me.”

“Why d’you need spare clothes? Father will…”

Renji shook his head at that and tried to find a way of explaining things to the boy that wouldn’t sound like he was snarking at Szayel.

“I’m not a researcher. I can’t wear the stuff his Division members wear. I need to go to get a regular uniform, like all of the other Shinigami.”

“But you’re not inna d’vision!”

Not anymore, kid, but I was once. It was the scariest Division in all of the Gotei 13 and it was led by one of the scariest men I’ve ever met, he thought grimly.

Abisara must have sensed the change in his mood, because he asked no further questions. Instead, he took Renji’s hand and walked quietly beside his caretaker. Which was just as well, as the merchant offering uniforms and the small shop that dealt in the kind of hair ties he needed were on the other side of the section of the garment district that sold all of the things he feared that little Vindula would go crazy over. In addition, that section housed his personal Achilles heel, in the form of a stall called the Silver Dragonfly selling extremely expensive sunglasses. The last time he’d been there was well before the Winter War and he’d been unable to get there at all during his first year as Szayel’s so-called ‘possession’. He did and did not want to see the place again, mostly because he was still unsure as to whether or not the 6th Division’s 9th seat, Shirogane Mihane, was still there running the place. Her name hadn’t come up on the casualty list and that meant that she’d a) escaped, b) been Claimed by one of the Numeros or c) quietly managed to retain her freedom somehow with the help of her father, Ginjirō, the man Renji had replaced as Fukutaichou when the old man had retired. He hoped it was the first, would settle for the third and was afraid of the second.

Maneuvering in the garment district was like running an obstacle course. If he could just focus on other things, keep Vindula from trying to snatch every glittery thing she saw, make the last of the necessary purchases and go, he’d breathe easier.

Abisara’s insistence on Renji’s ‘role’ within the makeshift household sent his mind down a few paths he hadn’t really wanted to tread, as there was little he could do about it now and contemplating the change in his status, from Fukutaichou of the 6th Division to a babysitter and general laborer still set his teeth on edge at times. He knew the looks cast his way when the few still alive who knew who he’d once been saw him outside of Szayel’s little scientific fiefdom. Renji tried to tell himself that Abisara and Vindula made up for much of the loss in status, and anything was better than traipsing around as the walking husk he’d been just two years ago. Of course, outwardly, he was a Hollow’s ‘pet’. It was no secret as to how one ended up with that title either. While he knew who truly held his Claim, Renji couldn’t help hating the idea that those Shinigami who weren’t under some Arrancar’s thumb viewed him not as a survivor, but as the fuck-toy of an Espada with cotton-candy colored hair and a fetish for fine silk dressing gowns.

Not for the first time was Renji grateful that neither Szayel’s clothing purchases, nor his laundry, were his problem.

‘OHHH!! SO PRETTY!!!”

Renji snapped out of his reverie just as he felt Vindula’s hand escape his grasp. He looked up to see her dashing across the street at top speed, towards a shop with multi-colored silk scarves and ribbons hanging from racks, dancing enticingly in the breeze. There were numerous mirrors set at just the right height for a patron to try on the wares. A few well-dressed shoppers loitered in front of the place and they had no idea of the havoc headed their way, its wings fluttering in frenzied excitement as she ran.

“’dula! Come back!” her brother called and dropped Renji’s hand as well, darting after his sibling as fast as his small frame would allow.

Renji, in turn, went after Abisara. He intended to grab the boy before Abisara could collide with anyone else, but the redhead himself nearly plowed into a couple of women more concerned with talking to one another than looking where they were going. He deftly caught one of the women’s packages before it hit the ground and shoved it back in her startled hands. The small delay cost him and he had to strain to follow two small figures, one dark-haired and intent on her target and one pink-haired and intent on salvaging his promised taiyaki and afternoon in the park.

“Vindula! Get back here!” he yelled.

As it turned out, he needn’t have run. His small, winged charge had come to a dead stop next to the shop in question. However, she wasn’t staring, enraptured, at any of the merchandise. Rather, her large, golden eyes were busy drinking in the sight of an individual with long, dark hair dressed in an elaborately-embroidered sapphire-and-turquoise-blue outer kimono. The shopper appeared to have been comparing the virtues of two nearly transparent silk scarves before Vindula appeared at his side. Abisara soon joined her, grabbing at her sleeve and tugging on it, to no avail.

“Sooo pretty!!!” Renji heard her sigh as she stared up at someone that, at first glance, appeared to be a noble of some sort. Her fingers laced beneath her chin in a gesture that he normally only saw on paintings of saints attending a Bodhisattva.

Renji swore he saw stars sparkling in the child’s eyes. The man in turn (and after a few seconds of scrutiny, Renji decided it was a man under all of that embroidered silk) looked down at the children before him with surprised lavender eyes and raised one elegantly shaped eyebrow.

To his astonishment, as he drew closer, Renji realized he knew the guy.

“What, this old thing? Goodness… how very enchanting!” he heard the man exclaim as Vindula, her iridescent wings fluttering behind her, reached out for him, or rather, his multi-colored kimono sleeves.

“Ayasegawa-san?”

The name was out of his mouth before his common sense kicked in to remind him that his primary concern was about to climb Yumichika like a mountain goat. He reached down and picked up Vindula, settling her in the crook of his arm and carefully pulling her chin down to meet his very stern gaze.

“Now what did I tell you, Vindula, about running off?”

Forced to look away from her newfound object of worship, her wings drooped and she began to sniffle as she realized she was in trouble.

“Sorry, Ji-ji…”

“Stupid ‘Dula! Now we can’t have taiyaki!”

Abisara’s angry little voice came from somewhere below him and he heard a small, sandaled foot stomp in agitation. The boy sounded close to tears as well and Renji could have kicked himself as he noted just how far the shadows had moved. It was later than he thought, the children were hungry and they hadn’t even finished their shopping yet. It was a wonder that their behavior had been this good for so long, given the extra excitement.

“Ahem… Abarai-san, could you be good enough to introduce me to your darling companions?”

Somewhere, under the eyelash extensions, the elaborate hair braiding, the jewelry and the dusting of makeup across his eyelids was a man Renji had barely seen over the last dozen years, save for Claim meetings, his nine-year nap notwithstanding. Even then, he’d had no chance to speak with his former Division-mate, not with the ill-tempered, glowering Second Espada holding the other’s leash. Then he wondered if the creature was lurking about somewhere and did a quick scan of the area. One finely manicured hand reached out and patted him on the arm, as if to reassure him that Barragan wasn’t going to pop out from behind one of the racks of ribbons.

“He’ll be in a meeting for most of the day, as will most of the Espada. He’s on patrol this afternoon as well, so we decided to leave the estate for a shopping trip and a bite to eat,” Yumichika explained, still looking back and forth between the twins, his eyes getting wider. “Goodness, are those two…?”

Renji nodded and hoisted Vindula up an inch, mostly to get a better grip on her.

“This is Vindula Grantz and this…” and here Renji pulled Abisara forward a little, “…is her older brother Abisara Grantz. They’re the children of Szayel-Apporo Grantz and Kurotsuchi Nemu.”

Then he gestured towards his old compatriot, who bowed gracefully at the introduction.

“Kids, this is Ayasegawa Yumichika. I once served with him in the 11th Division.”

Vindula giggled and tried to bow while Renji had hold of her. Abisara did a better job, though the look on the boy’s face made it clear that he didn’t think that anyone wearing Yumichika’s current ensemble had ever touched a sword, let alone served as a Shinigami.

“Hey, Yumi… I think I found something she’ll li…”

A short, dark brown-haired Arrancar sporting a long thin braid down his back and a cap-like mask with long fangs that curved down the side of his face came around the side of one of the display racks. He carried a short length of fine silk embroidered with tiny hornets and blue flowers and at first glance, he appeared to be on the youngish side. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Yumichika wasn’t alone, yellow eyes going wide, especially when he looked at the twins.

Renji felt, rather than saw, Abisara dart behind him, peeking out at the newcomer from behind his leg. For a few tense seconds, no one moved or spoke, unsure of what to do in the presence of an unfamiliar Hollow. From the way that he’d addressed Yumichika, he was obviously the other half of the ‘we’ participating in the shopping trip, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a threat. Vindula stilled in Renji’s arms, golden eyes taking him in, until she let out a squeal, reached out her arms towards the newcomer and yelled:

“KITTY!!!”

It was as if someone had just dumped a bucket of water on the Hollow. His shoulders slumped and he looked back and forth from the children, then to Yumichika with such a woebegone expression that Renji actually felt sorry for him. Yumichika put a hand to his mouth to suppress, mostly, a titter of his own at Vindula’s assessment his companion. He patted the Arrancar’s shoulder in a placating manner, trying to take away some of the sting.

“That’s ‘tiger’, dammit…” Renji heard the creature mutter sullenly and he had to bite down on the inside of his own cheek to keep from laughing. He knew how it felt. He’d taken more than his fair share of crap at Urahara’s shop with all the ‘pineapple’ jokes inspired by his hair and the ‘freeloader’ quips that the kids there sent his way. Yumichika gathered himself together and sighed.

“Now, now, little Vindula-chan here has proven herself an exceptional judge of beauty. If she finds you pet-able, Ggio, then I suggest you accept it with good grace. Take it as a sign that other girls might find you similarly attractive. My apologies, Abarai-san, this is Ggio Vega, fraccion of His Majesty Barragan Louisenbairn, the Second Espada. Ggio, this is Abarai Renji, a former colleague of mine.”

At first, Ggio looked Renji up and down, a little wary of both the much-taller Shinigami and the little girl squirming in his arms, attempting to get at him. Abisara stayed put behind Renji, trying to decide if the adult Arrancar was dangerous. Renji inwardly sighed and counted himself lucky that at least one of the twins had a healthy sense of self-preservation. Reaching back, the redhead patted Abisara on the head and then as nonchalantly as possible, laid his hand to rest on Zabimaru’s hilt, not gripping it. He left it there just long enough to send a message to the Second Espada’s servant. As glad as he was to see Yumichika, his first duty was to protect the twins. Aizen’s edict as far as any and all hybrid children was all well and good, but Renji wasn’t taking any chances. Ggio didn’t miss the gesture either, though he did stand his ground.

“Pleased to meet you,” the fraccion replied with a short bow. Then he seemed to recall that he had something in his hands and lifted it up for Yumichika to scrutinize.

“What do you think?”

Purple eyes blinked, and the Shinigami’s hand shot out to take it from his companion’s fingers. After staring at it critically and then bringing it in close to examine the embroidery, Yumichika finally nodded and handed it back.

“It’s just small enough that she can conceal it, the quality of the silk and threads are above average, the stitching is good and you’ve found an appropriate motif. Excellent work! There’s hope for you yet, Ggio!”

The brief, conspiratorial grin the two shared confused Renji. They were far more comfortable with one another than one might expect of a fraccion and a ‘pet’. Was the Arrancar guarding Yumichika? It didn’t seem like it to him. Then someone’s stomach gurgling in hunger cut through any further analysis of the two men before him. All three of the adults looked at one another, then at Vindula, who was still trying to reach out and ransack either Yumichika or Ggio, and finally down at Abisara. The pink-haired boy had one small hand on his tummy and his cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

“I believe it’s time for some refreshments. Would the three of you care to join us at The Tapestry for some tea and a light lunch?”

“Ah…” Renji began, trying to remember the place in question and coming up with an eatery that, while not far away, wasn’t exactly in his price range. Yumichika noticed the pause and hurried to add:

“Oh, but you’ll be our guests of course, won’t you? I absolutely must hear about how things are going with you and yours. You’ll indulge me, won’t you?”

From his past experiences with the man, Renji knew that once Yumichika started in with the social niceties, it was best just to go with the flow, unless one had orders from a superior. The twins needed to eat, though he wasn’t sure if the restaurant he was thinking of would be able to accommodate two small children. Then Vindula’s stomach decided to chime in on the debate and growled at anyone who was close enough to hear it.

“Well, that’s two votes…” Yumichika laughed.

Renji sighed and nodded, giving in. “Lead the way. We will gladly accept your hospitality.”

Ggio told them that he would meet then there and ducked back into the stall with the scarf, presumably to purchase it. That action put the kibosh on the whole ‘guard’ theory. Then again, the redhead figured that there would be few in the Seireitei crazy enough to mess with someone Claimed by the Second. Renji let Yumichika shepherd the three of them one street over and two blocks down to a small establishment with long, beautifully painted scrolls hanging from the eaves. Ducking under them, Yumichika only had to set one foot inside before a hostess whisked them to a low, quiet table. She left and returned with two thicker cushions for the children. It was a seating arrangement the twins had never experienced before and Renji had to put a few whispered words in Vindula’s ear to keep her from bouncing up and down on hers.

“We’ve another who will be joining us in a few minutes. Tea for three, cider for the children and a set of menus, please.”

“Of course, Ayasegawa-sama. I’ll send Ayame-chan to you with it. Your usual blend, or would you like some of the new Zhejiang we’ve procured? It’s the first picking of the year.”

“You know, let’s go with the Zhejiang, since it’s in season and thank you.”

“Do they have tayaki?” Abisara asked hopefully, as the hostess silently retreated. Renji sort of hoped they did as well; he’d actually been looking forward to the fish-shaped cakes filled with sweet bean paste himself. Yumichika shook his head, and then considered the crestfallen look on the boys’ face.

A few minutes later, their appointed serving girl approached with a tray full of teacups and a pot of steaming tea, as well as the requested menus. She was as nondescript as the rest of the staff, well-dressed and subdued in the way that only upper-class servants seemed to manage. As she approached the table, her steps faltered, as if she was hesitant to approach, and her brown eyes grew wide as she took in those seated at the table, or rather, those who were actually sitting, as Vindula stood up to better see their server. When Renji managed to get the child to calm down, the server’s face had returned to its mask of pleasant neutrality.

Yumichika motioned her closer. He whispered a few things in her ear that Renji couldn’t hear and she relaxed, but not before Renji caught her eyes flashing his way once or twice. He wasn’t sure what the dark-haired man said to her and she initially looked as if she was going to refuse. Then Yumichika pressed something small and golden into her hand that helped change her mind. She retreated after pouring for the table, leaving an empty cup for Ggio. She’d only poured for Renji and Yumichika and before Renji could ask her why, she was back with two small porcelain cups of warmed, spiced fruit juice. Thankfully, it wasn’t too hot and Renji sent a silent ‘thank you’ to the man across the table for his foresight. From the small, approving noises Vindula and Abisara made as they took sips, it was more than all right. Throughout the entire exchange, the girl had remained quiet and Renji wondered just how well ‘Ayame’ knew Yumichika. From the words exchanged with the hostess, he was something of a regular here.

“So you must tell me everything you’ve been up to since… well…” and here Yumichika seemed to fish around for a diplomatic way of bringing up the fact Renji wasn’t a shuffling shell any longer.

The redhead nodded in understanding as he took a sip of his own tea and tried to determine what was and was not safe to say, not to mention what Karin's Claim-backed instructions would allow. He settled on a half-truth.

“Szayel… -sama… decided his little Zanpakuto ‘experiment’ had gone on long enough. He gave Orihime-chan permission to use her gift to restore Zabimaru, and me with it I guess. I was… a little disoriented at first. Nemu-chan filled me in on what I missed. It’s been an adjustment, I suppose. She said that he’d ‘satisfied his curiosity’ and brought me back around to act as a guard and a nanny for these two, as well as deal with the grunt work around the Science Division.”

Yumichika, unfortunately, was much sharper than that, and knew an abbreviated story when he heard it, but didn’t press Renji.

“That’s in line with what we were told, via the servants’ grapevine of course. We don’t get many visitors, as you might have guessed. You look healthy and fit though. Does he allow you to train?”

Renji shrugged and took another sip of what had turned out to be a very good cup of tea.

“Sometimes, when I’m not needed to guard these two, or do the heavy lifting for my ‘betters’. Never thought I’d ever end up around a bunch of bookworms and intellectuals, though. Not considering where we came from.”

“On that, I concur, Abarai-san.”

If there was one thing the 11th Division prized more than anything else, it had been brute strength, not Kido skills. Yumichika’s presence in that Division had always stumped Renji. He'd understood why Ikakku had joined – the man had lived, breathed, ate and crapped fighting. Yumichika, on the other hand, while eager for combat and relentless with Ruri'iro Kujaku, wasn’t the sort to wade headlong into a fray without a plan. He’d been the odd man out, in more ways than one.

Maybe, Renji thought, it was why Yumichika counted among the few survivors of that cursed Division.

“Hm. At least you get to train. Before the Defense Net went up, His Majesty declined to have me participate in battles. I’m not sure why. I’m terribly out of practice, I fear. Vega-san and Soi Fon are his preferred weapons.”

“Are you okay?” Renji had to ask, in a low voice, even though he knew the question sounded absolutely ridiculous.

None of them were truly alright, save for those who had managed to come to some kind of peaceful resolution with their captors, such as Karin and Orihime, or who actually relished their relationship with their Claimant, like Arisawa-san and Nemu. He got the feeling that Yumichika wasn’t one of those, from the small amount of melancholy that seeped into the man’s eyes. Then it vanished as quickly as it appeared, hidden under a layer of frivolity that probably served as a way of keeping the Espada that ‘owned’ him from noticing that everything wasn’t all smiles and sunshine. If Renji was somewhat isolated by his duties with the twins and his lack of anything in common with the Division that surrounded him, what must things be like for Yumichika or with Soi Fon for that matter, given the fearsome reputation of their Master?

“So, did we order yet?”

Ggio chose that moment to join them, and sat as close to Yumichika (and as far away from Renji) as he could get without appearing rude. To Renji it seemed like a strange, overtly familiar relationship. If he didn’t know any better, he would have said that they were as close as Yumichika had once been with Ikakku, and that had been a weird partnership as well. He knew better than to bring that subject up though. From what he’d learned after the defeat, Ikakku had died of his wounds shortly after taking out one of the Second Espada’s fraccion. Renji wasn’t going to take the chance that this Ggio Vega had been best buddies with the Arrancar that his former mentor had eliminated.

Their serving girl arrived with a fresh pot of tea and a notebook the moment Ggio’s rump hit the pillow. Yumichika and Ggio, familiar with the menu, were quick with their orders. Renji, looking at the offerings, had no idea what would be simple enough for Vindula and Abisara. Yet again, Yumichika made some suggestions for spring rolls and small, meat-stuffed dumplings which didn’t require chopsticks and which small fingers could easily manage. This time Renji’s smile of gratitude was much bigger. He settled for beef negimaki, mostly because the dish was simple and he could eat and keep an eye on both children while doing so. Watching their server scribbling quickly reminded Renji of Nel’s small notebook and it occurred to him that this was a golden opportunity to acquire information about the two individuals for which he’d had the least amount of information. At the very least, he’d be able to get some needed intelligence to Yoruichi and Kenpachi-Taichou about their respective former subordinates.

The only impediment to getting that information was Yumichika himself, who peppered him with questions about the others who were similarly ‘held’. Renji found himself having to self-censor quite a bit, mostly because of the children, but also because he didn’t want Yumichika to guess at either his false relationship with Szayel or his real one with a member of the Escapees. He came to two conclusions as the meal progressed: Yumichika and Soi Fon lived an existence similar to the one he’d found that Rangiku endured, confined to their masters’ holdings save for brief respites such as the one Yumichika was currently engaged in and that both were starved for real contact with their fellow former officers. Ggio’s presence at the table initially made him hesitate as far inquiring about Soi Fon’s welfare, but the subject surfaced anyway. What surprised Renji was that Ggio brought it up.

“Ah, I want to ask you something, Abarai-san.”

Renji had been in the middle of wiping a bit of sauce off of Abisara’s chin and tucking an extra napkin over his lap in an attempt to keep the child’s clothing stain-free, when Ggio had hesitantly asked the question. He had to turn to Vindula to do the same thing, but when he resurfaced, he faced the Arrancar with a neutral expression.

“Depends on what it’s about,” he countered.

He’d be damned if he was going to volunteer any information on the twins, especially to the fraccion of the Espada whose attempt on Ajuga was well-known and well-documented.

“It’s about Soi Fon.”

The fang-masked fraccion with the scruffy brown hair wasn’t looking at him, but rather, toying with what Renji thought was a piece of chicken from his half-eaten plate of yakisoba, yellow eyes firmly on his plate. His voice was also pitched low, as if he wasn’t certain he ought to be asking the question in the first place. Renji wasn’t sure he could answer such a question, considering how little time he’d actually spent in the woman’s presence. Of course, that wasn’t exactly a bad thing. No one in his or her right mind wanted to spend any more time than necessary with the Onmitsukido. Too much time in the company of that organization without actually being a member usually meant that one was either a target or an inmate.

“I… I’m not sure I can help you with that. Our paths didn’t cross very often, outside of meetings with Yamamoto-Soutaichou. What do you want to know?”

“What does she like?”

Now that was something for which Renji truly had no answer. Did the guy mean ‘like’ as in ‘favorite food’ or ‘favorite color’, or ‘like’ as in kicking the crap out of anyone who got in her way, whether friend or foe? Alternatively, did he mean ‘like’ as in the odd obsession with black cats she displayed? His bewilderment must have shown on his face because Yumichika stepped in to try to smooth things over.

“I’m afraid Abarai-san is probably the wrong person to ask about that, Vega-san…”

“Fish.”

The word popped out of his mouth, as it was the only thing that his mental excavation could dig up on such short notice. Ggio’s head shot up and he stared at Renji, and even Yumichika seemed surprised.

“Fish?”

“Ah, well, during those long planning meetings where the Soutaichou and the First Division played host and they served food, she always seemed to go for the fish. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her eat any sort of meat but fish, in the short time I was a Fukutaichou,” Renji elaborated, reaching up and rubbing the back of his neck, with a sheepish look. Then he shrugged. “Sorry, that’s all I have for you.”

Still, from the thoughtful expression on the Arrancar’s face, it was something helpful. Those yellow eyes brightened a little as he regarded the Shinigami across the table and for a second Renji would have sworn what he saw in them was ‘hope’.

“That’s… actually do-able. Thanks Abarai-san!”

Ggio tackling his meal with renewed enthusiasm and the rest of lunch continued in relative quiet. Renji was left more confused than before he’d sat down. He wiped Vindula’s chin and gave it some thought. Why would Barragan’s fraccion ask something like that? The Arrancar’s change in expression when he’d given his admittedly second-rate answer, his attachment of an honorific to a ‘pet’s’ name… none of it made any sense.

Unless…

“Abarai-san, what do you think of the meal?”

Yumichika’s voice distracted him from his thoughts. When he turned his attention to the former 5th Seat, he saw the man’s eyes narrow and he shook his head ever so slightly. The unspoken message said, just let it go.

“Love it!” Vindula exclaimed with a giggle, answering for her caregiver.

Indeed, when Renji looked down at her plate, he found she’d made short work of everything before her, and it hadn’t been a child-sized portion either. It never failed to astonish him how much food the twins could put away. He knew that naturally-born Hollows matured at twice the rate that one could expect a human child to develop, thanks to Szayel’s data on Ajuga and Diaemus. That sort of growth rate required an inordinate amount of energy. Watching them devour quantities of food that might give an adult trouble was unsettling. Of course, Renji remembered his own outsized appetite as a boy, so perhaps perpetual hunger was a hallmark for all children.

“It’s good,” Abisara added, popping the last of his dumplings in his mouth.

Yumichika smiled at the boy, finished the final bite of the crispy duck he’d requested, and then genteelly sipped his tea. Renji noticed that Vindula secretly did the same with her juice cup, in an attempt to mimic the gesture.

‘Sir?”

The serving girl had returned, with two trays and Yumichika gave her a nod. Another of the restaurant’s staff removed their empty dishes and placed clean ones in front of each person at the table, along with a fresh set of chopsticks. A third server replaced the empty pot of tea on the table with a hot, full one.

“I don’t normally indulge in sweets, but this is a special occasion. It’s rare that I get to spend time with such lovely young things, and with an old comrade. Grantz-san, I believe that you wished for taiyaki.”

The girl carefully placed the first tray on the table and the children sat up straighter in order to see what was under the lid. Abisara actually gasped when she revealed ten fish-shaped taiyaki cakes, the street snack artfully arranged on the plate, rather than in the usual paper wrappers. The other tray held small pastel-colored cubes topped with small sugar flowers. Vindula’s little mouth took on an ‘o’ shape and her eyes grew nearly as wide as the plate itself.

“Wha’ are those? C’n you eat ‘em?” she whispered in awe.

Even Renji was impressed with them and he had no idea what they were. Yumichika thanked the young woman, who bowed and departed quietly.

“Of course you can. They’re a Western treat called ‘petit fours’. Small, sweet, exquisitely pretty and just the right size. Hmm…they remind me of someone. Who could that be, I wonder?”

Yumichika placed his first finger on his chin, striking an exaggerated pose and looking up at the ceiling as if imploring the heavens for help in remembering. Renji choked a little on his hot tea, watching the amount of song and dance the man added to his gesture and even Ggio smiled a little at the over-dramatization.

Laying it on a little thick, aren’t we? Are you praising her, or yourself, you peacock?

“Oh well. Try the pink one there, with the rose on top, and let me know if they’re good.”

Vindula’s hand shot out and the little decorated cube disappeared in the blink of an eye. She chewed, thankfully with her mouth closed and swallowed. Her dark eyelashes fluttered, as did her wings and if Renji hadn’t placed a hand firmly on her shoulder, he was sure that she would have jumped off her cushion and danced around the room. However, he couldn’t prevent her from raising her little voice.

“Awesome!!!’ she cried, and the heads of more than a few people at the tables around them turned their way.

Yumichika winced a little and she shrank back a bit when she saw his reaction, her cheeks coloring. The azure-garbed man quickly composed himself and reached out for a pale blue cube topped with a sugared violet, contemplating it as if it was a small work of art.

“They are quite ‘awesome’, aren’t they? A lady, however, never grabs a sweet nor does she wolf it down all at once.” Yumichika waved a finger at the girl in admonishment. “She eats sweets like the treasures they are, slowly and with refinement, to make the experience last. Watch now.”

He raised his petit four to his lips and with one pinkie crooked, took one bite. Renji watched the lesson with no small amount of amusement, but his eyes kept wandering to the other tray. It had been so long since he’d had one of the fish-shaped waffles that to find an entire pile of them was a little surreal. He also noticed that his other charge hadn’t reached for one either. Abisara simply stared at them, green eyes drinking in the sight, until Yumichika’s companion cleared his throat and leaned forward on one arm, catching the child’s gaze with his near-feral one.

“Hey, kiddo! Gotta move fast with these. They’re pretty good!”

Ggio snagged two of the cakes and waggled one playfully at the boy, as if to make his point. Abisara looked up at Renji and seeing an equal interest in the contents of the tray on the redhead’s face, carefully took one in his small hand. Ggio snorted and tucked in to his with gusto, upper fangs showing, the waffle layer crunching as he chewed the head of the ‘fish’. It made him look even more ‘kitty-like’, something Renji decided he wasn’t going to mention.

Abisara, on the other hand, went for the tail and a happy smile spread across his features. Renji chuckled and took one himself, relishing the sweet red bean filling when he bit down. Then he tried a petit four and quickly went back to the taiyaki. The frosted and decorated cubes of what turned out to be cake and some kind of sweetened berry filling were far too sugary for him, but Vindula looked as if she had a new favorite food and if his eyes didn’t mistake him, a new idol to worship in the form of an overdressed etiquette instructor.

They finished the meal with more tea and Ggio left briefly to pay the bill and hand the serving girl a tip for her attentive service. Then, full and feeling more relaxed than he had in years, Renji shepherded the twins out the door, following Yumichika and Ggio. The latter leaned over and whispered something in his companion’s ear, who in turn nodded. The shorter Arrancar, surprisingly, turned to Renji and spoke

“It’s probably best if I leave and make sure things are ready for His Majesty when he returns. Things get… rough when one of us isn’t there to greet him. Thanks for the help, Abarai-san. Oh, and one more thing?”

Ggio dropped his gaze and shifted his eyes towards the children, standing a few feet away. There was no mistaking the wistfulness in them this time. When he looked back at Renji, his expression turned serious and the taller man had to resist the urge to step back. Ggio’s voice was little more than a low, half-whispered growl.

“They’re great kids, but they’re too pretty and they’re gonna attract attention. Maybe sooner than you expect. Keep them safe and don’t let your guard down.”

Then the Arrancar was gone in a burst of Sonido, leaving a stunned Renji behind. Abisara’s mouth dropped a little in surprise at how quickly Ggio vanished, and Vindula was busy looking this way and that, trying to find out where her ‘kitty’ had gone. Yumichika regarded him with a smirk that held more than its fair share of bitterness.

“I shall accompany you to your last two stops, but I’m afraid I can’t afford to linger long after that. You don’t mind, do you?”

Renji shook his head, still reeling a little from Ggio’s blatant warning. Was a fraccion allowed to do that? He had no idea, since Szayel no longer had any ‘edible underlings’ and he rarely came into contact with Arrancar other than the ones that visited the Science and Research Division on a regular basis. Those were relatively few in number. Weren’t they supposed to be loyal servants, doing their Master’s bidding no matter what? He grabbed Abisara’s hand and reached down to take Vindula’s, only to find that she’d already slipped her fingers into Yumichika’s, giving him the same big-eyed, pleading look she’d perfected on Renji over the last year. Thankfully, Yumichika enveloped her own small hand in his well-manicured one before she could add the pouting lower lip to the mix.

The market’s crowds had thinned by the afternoon, making their progress easier. Renji found the shop that dealt in Shihakusho easily enough. It was still in the same spot he remembered, staffed by the same merchant he’d been purchasing his clothing from for years. This time, when he walked through the door, the merchant’s face went a deadly white and he promptly fell off his stool in shock. Then Renji did a few mental calculations and realized that the last time he’d been in the place was just before he and Rukia had set out on their little unauthorized excursion to Hueco Mundo.

Not you too….

He’d lost track of the times that had he run into someone in the last two years who hadn’t gotten the news that he’d been restored, only to have them either blubber over the fact he was back to normal or promptly freak out and go into fearful hysterics. The proprietor of the shop, meanwhile, was babbling something about miracles and frequently mentioning a rank he no longer had, in a Division that no longer existed.

Carefully, so as not to spook the man any more than necessary, he put in his order and gave an even briefer explanation than the one he’d given Yumichika. For his trouble, he received a half-price discount and the knowledge that the merchant would do his best to let anyone who seemed to care know he was still alive and now fully-functional. Through it all, Yumichika kept a firm hand on both children, at least until the necessary money was spent, the delivery arranged and the only task remaining involved hair ties.

“Why don’t we try here instead?” Yumichika suggested, an odd gleam in his eye, and motioned a few shops down the street.

The place looked like just another venue that sold hair accessories, like combs, clips and ribbons, but there was something familiar about the front of the building and it wasn’t until they were standing before it that he recognized where he was. For a second, he simply gaped at what had once been the finest, most expensive place to purchase the best, the most stylish and more importantly, the most functional reiatsu-sensing sunglasses in the Seireitei.

All of a sudden, he felt his throat constrict.

It was gone.

The Silver Dragonfly was gone.

Renji felt a sort of numbness slinking along his limbs as Yumichika gently placed one hand on his shoulder and gave him a nudge towards the door. He did his best not to stumble as he reached the threshold. The owner, who he did not know, showed him a few of the simpler ties he had available. He bought a dozen black ones for himself and twice as many in an array of colors he really didn’t look all that hard at for Vindula, all the while feeling as if he was moving through syrup. His voice cracked a little as he asked if the current shopkeeper knew what had become of the previous tenant, only to receive a shrug. The man’s reply told him that whatever had happened occured before Renji went on his little ‘sabbatical’, since the present occupant had been running the place for over eight years. It had been boarded up and empty when he’d found it. Renji thanked him, tucked the package of ties into his uniform, turned on his heel and walked out to where Yumichika and the twins were waiting.

“Ji-Ji! Sakura! Sakura!” Vindula chanted. Renji, still struggling with the fact that a landmark he’d irrationally hoped would still be there no longer existed, looked at the child without really seeing her.

“Ji-ji?” Abisara piped up, sounding a little scared now.

“Yeah?” he heard himself say, as if from a long way off.

“C’n we go to th’ park now?”

The boy’s big green eyes were fixed on him and his worry that their promised trip wouldn’t happen was apparent. A set of fingers emerging from an elaborately embroidered sleeve suddenly swam into view and those fingers snapped right under his nose, bringing him temporarily out of his mental fog.

“Abarai-san, if you’ll follow me, I know of a lovely park just outside the Gates. Shall we go, now that you’ve finished your shopping?”

Renji heard the edge in Yumichika’s voice and looked at the man. A pair of amethysts, cold and hard, glittered back at him and Renji knew then that Yumichika had brought him to that shop deliberately.

“Why?” he asked faintly.

“Because I think we need to have words, you and I, and my time grows short. That, and even though the sakura blossoms have yet to bloom, the trees are still beautiful.”

He’d said it softly, but there was no less insistence behind it. The children noticed the abrupt change in the atmosphere and fell in step with Renji as he turned to follow Yumichika. Soon they’d left the market behind and entered a residential area that he recognized. He and Rukia had once stolen a tunic for him and a blanket each when they were small, scouting the neighborhood because it simply had to have better quality stuff than what one could make off with in the 78th District. He remembered the park as well, if only because they’d used its greenery to elude the household servants that pursued them. That had been in autumn, when his hair had matched the color of the maple leaves and time to look around and smell the flowers hadn’t really been his to enjoy.

Now it was springtime and most of the trees in the park, especially the ones that lined the stone pathways, seemed poised to explode in pink and white blossoms. Here and there, daffodils spread in yellow and gold drifts through the greening grass, along with purple crocuses and tiny violas, the flowers’ four-petaled faces turned towards the sun. Yumichika stopped in a rustle of blue fabric before a long stone bench, and gestured towards the lawn.

“Children, I think your mother would greatly appreciate a gift of flowers. You might want to go pick some for her while we’re waiting for the cherry blossoms to open.”

Vindula didn’t need any more encouragement than that and flew to do anything her newfound hero suggested. Abisara, knowing a dismissal when he heard it, again looked to Renji. The redhead, after a quick scan of the park for any reiatsu signatures that seemed out of the ordinary, nodded and let him go. He ran off to join his sister, leaving the two adults sitting on the stone bench, not looking at one another. Finally, Renji broke the silence between them.

“Why did you take me there?”

“You needed hair ties, correct?”

“I meant, why...”

“I know what you meant. You want to know why I dragged you to the one place in the garment district that actually proved you had a small amount of taste. Why don’t you take a guess?”

Renji took a deep breath instead, and then closed his eyes.

“What happened to Shirogane-san, and her father?” he asked in a low voice. He couldn’t keep the dread he felt out of it.

The corner of Yumichika’s mouth quirked up at that.

“Why, Renji, I’m surprised you’re asking me! You could have asked her yourself when she brought you your taiyaki.”

What Yumichika implied slowly sank in and his mind flew back to their serving girl at the Tapestry. The hair was the right color, and the girl had been about the right height, but her reiatsu signature hadn’t been anywhere near the strength of his old 9th Seat and the young woman he remembered required glasses. Then he recalled the way her hands had trembled as she’d taken his order, the slight hesitance in her step when she’d first seen their party. He’d chalked that up to the twins’ presence; the children usually had one of two effects on people: absolute adoration or fear due to their Arrancar heritage. Renji had assumed it was the latter.

Kami… had that been Shirogane Mihane? Why hadn’t he recognized her? He’d spent enough time loitering around her shop, not to mention all of the damned staff meetings.

“No… it can’t be…,” he whispered.

“You’re simply dreadful at espionage, Abarai Renji. I don’t think you should dabble in it. You’ve no talent for it at all.”

Renji rubbed his hands over his face, trying to center himself. Yumichika continued to stare straight ahead, an unreadable expression on his elegant features.

“Can you at least give me an explanation?”

Yumichika sighed and adjusted the folds in his outer kimono, lacing his fingers together over one knee.

“A short one, in exchange for the short one you gave me. I believe her father, your predecessor, did not share Kuchiki-Taichou’s faith in Kurosaki Ichigo’s abilities. As it turned out,” Yumichika said, a sour note in his voice as he spoke, “the old man was right. He made sure his daughter was as deeply hidden in the countryside as possible during the invasion. He did so against her wishes, lest you think she deserted. And before you ask,” Yumichika warned him, “I have no idea if her father survived. It took me six expensive trips to the Tapestry once I realized who she was to get her to trust me enough to talk to me.”

Renji felt a little light-headed as a huge wave of relief flooded him.

“Please tell me she’s all right?” he whispered.

Yumichika snorted.

“What you really mean to ask is if she’s managed to remain un-Claimed? Yes. So far. I see her every few months or so, to check up on her, hand her enough coin to make it easier for her to make her way in the Rukongai and to the best of my knowledge, she remains undiscovered. I wouldn’t inquire after her at the restaurant either. She’s working under a different name and ‘Ayame’ is just her ‘serving’ name for the clientele.”

“Why doesn’t she feel the same way when she served as the 9th Seat?”

“You do remember their line of sunglasses, the ones that allowed a wearer to detect even small amounts of reiatsu? The ones you prattled on and on to Ikakku and me about for three months before you got off of your ass and bought them?”

Renji nodded, thinking of the pair he’d spent at least five months’ salary on and which he’d worn on that fateful trip to the Living World to find Rukia. If he hadn’t had them, he might never have discovered her hiding in the gigai Urahara-san gave her. He’d only had the sunglasses for a few weeks and they were gone in a flash of Ichigo’s sword. It was one of the small things for which he hadn’t really forgiven the Substitute Shinigami, considering their cost, but then it wasn’t as if Ichigo had been aiming for his glasses. He knew that Kurosaki had really been aiming for his face.

“Well, what makes you think that old Ginjirō couldn’t figure out a way to reverse the process?” Yumichika continued, speaking as if Renji needed help getting the entire picture.

“But she wasn’t wearing any glasses…”

“Pfft!” The former 5th Seat made a dismissive sound. “She probably had them in her pocket. The Tapestry has a dress code for those working in the front of the house. One doesn’t need to wear the things to get them to work.”

The redhead thought back to the reiatsu-dampening bracelet he’d used in the few weeks after his restoration, to hide the fact that he’d been effectively healed. He massaged his forehead with his fingers.

“Okay, I didn’t recognize her. It’s been ten years. A lot has changed. I get it.”

“Indeed. I took you by your favorite little haunt to remind you of that. Of course, the only reminders you need are over there, despoiling those narcissi.”

Renji turned brown eyes towards the children. Abisara carefully, almost analytically, picked the tallest flowers for his part of the bouquet, while Vindula busied herself with rolling around on the grass and watching the first of the year’s bugs get a head start on the job of pollination.

“You’re too much like Ikakku, Abarai-san,” Yumichika said quietly, his eyes following her movements as she jumped up and, wings beating furiously, tried to reach the lower, bud-laden branches of one of the sakura trees, to no avail.

‘Another year,’ Renji thought absently, ‘and that tree will be in serious trouble.’

“If you’re planning some kind of reckless, heroic act of rebellion, I’d advise you to think very hard about who and what your actions could affect.”

That hit a little too close to home. “Don’t you hope to be rescued?” he countered.

Now Yumichika laughed and Renji marveled at just how little humor there was in the sound.

“I can’t afford to hope the way I once did. There are two other people who depend on me to be the perfect courtesan, to keep a powerful monster appeased and happy. That takes up a great deal of time. I’m afraid there isn’t much room for me to pencil in ‘hope’ on my calendar.”

“Two…?” Renji wondered if Barragan had managed to squirrel away a third captive somewhere on his estate, and then realized whom Yumichika must mean. The other’s purple gaze narrowed and Renji swallowed nervously.

“He is as much a victim as I and Soi Fon-Taichou. Maybe more than we are, actually. She and I were never his followers by choice and betrayal is an absolute sonofabitch, isn’t it?”

The venomous tone Yumichika’s voice had taken belied the cool, calm expression on his face. Renji turned to stare at him, his mind working overtime to try to figure out what all of that meant, whether or not it was something valuable or not. The man sitting next to him waved him back with an impatient motion of his hand.

“If a rescue was coming,” he replied, “it would have happened by now. That’s why I’m warning you. This won’t be won with brute strength. I’m not even sure ‘winning’ is possible. The longer Aizen stays in power the stronger the bars on our cages become. Sometimes it feels as if they’ve been there all along and that freedom was just some dream I once enjoyed. You and I both know the shape of our cells, Abarai-san. Mine’s just better appointed.”

Yumichika closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as if savoring the air, then rose gracefully. Renji followed suit. He bowed deeply, mind whirling and decided to cover how unsettled he was with formality.

“Thank you for your generosity today. It was good to see you, to talk to you again.”

The man before him turned briefly and did the same, then straightened and looked back at the two children busily playing.

“The trees will bloom in the next few days. It’s a pity – we’re too early. I should leave you now. His Majesty will expect a full and… enthusiastic reception when he returns.”

“Ayasegawa-san, wait, please…” Renji began, but the other stopped him, palm raised in a ‘halt’ gesture. Then, before Renji could move, Yumichika stepped into his personal space, placing that same palm over the redhead’s suddenly pounding heart. When he spoke, his voice was pitched just above a whisper.

“Two things, before I go. First, take Ggio’s warning seriously. I was there they day that His Majesty made an attempt on Ajuga-chan. Only the Fourth Espada’s intervention prevented it from happening. They’re the children of an Espada, even a fallen one, and as such, he’ll be interested in them. Both of them,” he emphasized and Renji’s eyes grew wide. “Keep them out of his sight if possible and if not, take them and run for safety.”

A cold knot formed in the pit of Renji’s stomach as he listened, stunned that Yumichika could keep his face a mask of serenity while talking about such a horrifying topic. The idea of either of the twins being subject to the will of the Second Espada sent an icy bolt of fear straight down his spine to his gut. The redhead found himself nodding as Yumichika’s eyes bored into his.

“Second, Abarai-san, if anything you’ve learned today comes back to hurt Shirogane-san, Soi Fon-Taichou, Vega-san or me, I swear that the full release of Ruri'iro Kujaku will be the last thing you see.”

The promise of retribution took a few seconds to sink in and once it did, Renji swallowed a few times. He knew the creature that held Yumichika's Claim could feel everything he could and that the entire conversation had been risky, but he hadn’t realized the extent of Yumichika’s emotional armor. Perhaps it had always been that way. What he was certain of was that Yumichika's warrior instincts were still there, if he still had enough fire in him to issue warnings. Still, he had every reason to believe Yumichika would gut him if he screwed up.

“Understood,” he breathed.

Yumichika backed off, retaining all outward appearances of being not only relaxed, but also a little bored with his surroundings and his company.

“Ji-ji! We got flowers!”

They’d noticed when Yumichika had risen from the bench and the two rushed up with their arms full of blossoms. Abisara had put together a proper bouquet, while Vindula simply clutched as many daffodils as she could hold in her little hands, the flowers going every which way.

“I’m afraid I must depart. You two will be good for your ‘Uncle Renji’, right?”

“No! Do’n leave!” Vindula cried and before Renji could stop her, she’d dropped her flowers and snatched the fabric of Yumichika’s outer kimono. Then she turned on the waterworks; fat teardrops forming at the corner of her eyes and threatening to trickle down her cheeks. Renji had yet to meet anyone, other than Nemu, who hadn’t been moved to do whatever Vindula wanted when she played the teary-little- girl card. To his utter chagrin, Renji considered himself a member that well-whipped group.

Evidently, it had been a while since Yumichika had had an admirer like Vindula and his formal smile softened. The dark-haired Shinigami knelt down as much as his garb allowed and then reached deep into his left sleeve with his right hand. He drew a small piece of fabric out of some hidden pocket. Taking one edge of it, he dabbed at first one, then the other of her golden eyes, staunching her tears. When he was done, he placed what turned out to be a handkerchief embroidered with blue, black and yellow butterflies along one edge in her small hand.

“I have a master I must see to. Keep this as a reminder of this wonderful day, little Grantz-san and don’t cry. Ladies never cry in public, lest their tears make everyone else sad. ‘Til we meet again.”

He straightened, and turned and bowed deeply to Abisara.

“Thank you for your company, Grantz-san. It has been a pleasure making your acquaintance.”

Abisara, not quite sure what to make of an adult acting in such a subservient way towards him, bowed cautiously in return. Then, with one final, significant look at Renji, his former Division-mate was gone. He could still apparently use Shunpo, despite his claims of ‘being out of practice’.

Renji was left with more questions than answers, despite his best efforts, but he did have some valuable information to take back with him. Despite Yumichika’s promise to unleash a Shikai that Renji had never seen, nor knew anyone living who had ever laid eyes on it, he was confident that Yoruichi would know if what he’d learned today was valuable. He’d be seeing Nel soon anyway, so the information would still technically be fresh.

He allowed the twins another half-hour in the park, which resulted in enough damage to the flower beds that Renji decided to send a quick note to Orihime-chan, asking her to fix them in exchange for a future favor. It wasn’t as if he didn’t owe her big-time anyway. Then he made the children gather up every flower they’d dropped and the three of them started for home. He had plenty of time throughout the rest of the day to process things. His new-found knowledge of Shirogane Mihane and Ginjirō alone was enough to make him ferociously happy. The Silver Dragonfly was gone, but his 9th Seat still lived and if there were others, similarly disguised, they might help Yoruichi’s little band of survivors gain an edge.

The question then became whether or not he thought Yoruichi would make the right gamble in using them. Yumichika had been right in that this wasn’t a war that could be won with brute force. Brute force would most likely be the quickest way to failure. He had to be careful. There was already a shadow on Abisara and Vindula, in Aizen’s unspoken threat to Szayel. Unfortunately, brute force was the one thing at which he and Zabimaru excelled. Subtlety wasn’t one of his skills, but if he continued to try to gather information, he’d have to work hard at putting it on his résumé. In addition, he’d have to pay better attention. His failure to recognize a former officer in his own damned Division was proof enough of that.

He had his work cut out for him. Still, he decided that his time with Yumichika, even with the threat, had been good for him and he hoped that the twins had managed to take the former 5th Seat’s mind off of what had to be a difficult existence. As the afternoon faded into evening, Renji also discovered that he wasn’t the only one that the fop had affected. He’d tucked the children into bed, made sure the lid on the minicentrifuge tucked next to a sleepy Abisara remained firmly shut and latched on all three sides. When he’d gone to cover up Vindula yet again, thanks to her penchant for kicking off blankets in her sleep, he found her clutching Yumichika’s embroidered handkerchief in her small fist, holding it under her chin and smiling in her sleep.

To be continued...
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Consolation Prize (of Victory)