[Bleach] Brat on the Throne
Rereading the early chapters of Bleach: why don't more people realize what a beautiful little piece of work Rukia obviously was pre-series? No really, she is her brother's miniature. Except maybe more nasty, and less refined. Dark!Rukia is hot. With that in mind, have a ficbit:
The saucer shook in his hand, sweet liquid spilling over. He snapped his middle and index fingers still.
“Of course…” he mumbled, eyes darting. “Any…requests by la…lady Kuchiki ar--”
“More of this,” said woman in the brilliantly patterned kimono. She raised her empty dish, perfectly balanced her palm. “I like this.”
Saucers were refilled, and across from him, the shinigami sniffed the drink delicately. She frowned, nodded, and gulped it down. She took no notice to her host, it seemed. He slouched hopefully for her attentions. She licked her lips, and peered at him.
“Mm?”
“A…as you can see, Lady Kuchiki. …you…are very welcome here.”
The noble tilted head to one side. “Yes.”
“Your presence i..is as fresh and brilliant as a newly turned page…”
The noble looked pleased. “Yes.”
The man folded his hands. “So…then!” His face folded and creased and contorted into a smile. He nodded abundantly. “Yo-you may tell your brother! About our hos..pitality. And forget other things!”
The woman looked into her dish. “More,” she said, sticking an arm out. “You mean about the Academy.”
“About the …accusations, about the Academy.”
“About the academy,” repeated the woman. She took a matter-of-fact gulp, then set her thirds down and licked the stickiness from her finger. “I see. No.”
Everything about the man before her suddenly froze, even his thinning hair in the warm breeze that the room allowed. “…no?”
“No,” said Kuchiki Rukia. “Why should forget something so trivial that you feel the need to bribe me for it? That is what this is, is it not?”
She looked around: “Very hospitable yes. This is a most fabulous welcome. A most commendable welcome. Most worthy of your guest! Your family, it has done very well for itself in the last few years, hasn’t it!”
“I…”
“Surely so well that many of its sons should become,” Rukia’s lips twisted, “Well established shinigami.”
“…that is…”
Thin fingers waved carelessly. “Without the need for such things like paying their classmates not to take their exams, or paying them to ascertain others do not take their exams, or fixing the class rankings-which I believe we have the letters for, by the way. Such neat handwriting! Such artful handwriting, you have--”
Pale eyes fixed on the man, who’d gone whiter than a fresh page. “--Satomi-dono.”
“Lady Kuchiki--!”
Thin fingers snapped shut. The noble lifted her fist. She was not finished.
“You have done so well for yourself,” said Rukia, standing. “That surely you are without the need for…such small things as the Kuchiki’s sponsorship, for these sons. Is this why you have not declared this wealth to us? Or is it because it was gained through bribes made to you to stay silent on such petty things as officers smuggling in illegal goods from Rukongai?”
His jaw trembled, she cut him off again: “-yes. We have the letters on that as well. To the outposts. In the northern districts. We have sniffed those out.” Rukia smirked, pleasantly. “We have dogs.”
Here, in the pause graciously allowed, her host slumped and sighed. His breath rattled in his throat. His dish had spilled. He set down the half filled remnants of it by his folded knee and laughed painfully. His hand vanished into the front of his yukata. His voice suddenly grew very steady. He looked up with bleak, black eyes.
“Oh, Lady Kuchiki,” he said, his tone still carrying the touch of a plea. He began to draw his hand out. “That is very…”
The noblewoman’s hand flashed, as five men poured into the room and the man was suddenly bent over bleeding from the wrist.
“…unfortunate?” The shinigami stood over him with blood on her sword. The room had gone several degrees colder. “That you felt the need to do that? Yes. Was there a weapon in there? -ah. More coin. You were putting that hand to poor use.”
Her eyes flashed to the men surrounding her. She lifted her chin, allowed the air in the room to go static for a brief swell. Their hands left their hilts. She stepped over bottles and plates to stand before their master. He was groaning. She put her foot on his head, and shoved it down, so that his forehead touched the mats.
“Bow,” said Rukia, “By all rights, I should have taken your whole arm. How dare you try to bribe a Kuchiki. My brother would not be so merciful as I. Fool. Be thankful.”
The man shook with sobs. Rukia ground her heel in one last time before she turned, shaking out her blade in cool disgust. She sheathed it and strode out. The icy winds followed her, and the household gave way for her. She stopped once more in the door, glancing back. She waited ‘till Satomi had the mind through the pain to look up again. Meeting his gaze, her face was as flat as the inch of metal she kept bare, as a warning to the men who still flanked her.
“The Satomi no longer holds any interest to our clan. This property now falls under the name of Kuchiki Byakuya. Someone,” she looked to the servants, “Should have the presence of mind to replace those mats.”
…and with that, the little woman left.
The saucer shook in his hand, sweet liquid spilling over. He snapped his middle and index fingers still.
“Of course…” he mumbled, eyes darting. “Any…requests by la…lady Kuchiki ar--”
“More of this,” said woman in the brilliantly patterned kimono. She raised her empty dish, perfectly balanced her palm. “I like this.”
Saucers were refilled, and across from him, the shinigami sniffed the drink delicately. She frowned, nodded, and gulped it down. She took no notice to her host, it seemed. He slouched hopefully for her attentions. She licked her lips, and peered at him.
“Mm?”
“A…as you can see, Lady Kuchiki. …you…are very welcome here.”
The noble tilted head to one side. “Yes.”
“Your presence i..is as fresh and brilliant as a newly turned page…”
The noble looked pleased. “Yes.”
The man folded his hands. “So…then!” His face folded and creased and contorted into a smile. He nodded abundantly. “Yo-you may tell your brother! About our hos..pitality. And forget other things!”
The woman looked into her dish. “More,” she said, sticking an arm out. “You mean about the Academy.”
“About the …accusations, about the Academy.”
“About the academy,” repeated the woman. She took a matter-of-fact gulp, then set her thirds down and licked the stickiness from her finger. “I see. No.”
Everything about the man before her suddenly froze, even his thinning hair in the warm breeze that the room allowed. “…no?”
“No,” said Kuchiki Rukia. “Why should forget something so trivial that you feel the need to bribe me for it? That is what this is, is it not?”
She looked around: “Very hospitable yes. This is a most fabulous welcome. A most commendable welcome. Most worthy of your guest! Your family, it has done very well for itself in the last few years, hasn’t it!”
“I…”
“Surely so well that many of its sons should become,” Rukia’s lips twisted, “Well established shinigami.”
“…that is…”
Thin fingers waved carelessly. “Without the need for such things like paying their classmates not to take their exams, or paying them to ascertain others do not take their exams, or fixing the class rankings-which I believe we have the letters for, by the way. Such neat handwriting! Such artful handwriting, you have--”
Pale eyes fixed on the man, who’d gone whiter than a fresh page. “--Satomi-dono.”
“Lady Kuchiki--!”
Thin fingers snapped shut. The noble lifted her fist. She was not finished.
“You have done so well for yourself,” said Rukia, standing. “That surely you are without the need for…such small things as the Kuchiki’s sponsorship, for these sons. Is this why you have not declared this wealth to us? Or is it because it was gained through bribes made to you to stay silent on such petty things as officers smuggling in illegal goods from Rukongai?”
His jaw trembled, she cut him off again: “-yes. We have the letters on that as well. To the outposts. In the northern districts. We have sniffed those out.” Rukia smirked, pleasantly. “We have dogs.”
Here, in the pause graciously allowed, her host slumped and sighed. His breath rattled in his throat. His dish had spilled. He set down the half filled remnants of it by his folded knee and laughed painfully. His hand vanished into the front of his yukata. His voice suddenly grew very steady. He looked up with bleak, black eyes.
“Oh, Lady Kuchiki,” he said, his tone still carrying the touch of a plea. He began to draw his hand out. “That is very…”
The noblewoman’s hand flashed, as five men poured into the room and the man was suddenly bent over bleeding from the wrist.
“…unfortunate?” The shinigami stood over him with blood on her sword. The room had gone several degrees colder. “That you felt the need to do that? Yes. Was there a weapon in there? -ah. More coin. You were putting that hand to poor use.”
Her eyes flashed to the men surrounding her. She lifted her chin, allowed the air in the room to go static for a brief swell. Their hands left their hilts. She stepped over bottles and plates to stand before their master. He was groaning. She put her foot on his head, and shoved it down, so that his forehead touched the mats.
“Bow,” said Rukia, “By all rights, I should have taken your whole arm. How dare you try to bribe a Kuchiki. My brother would not be so merciful as I. Fool. Be thankful.”
The man shook with sobs. Rukia ground her heel in one last time before she turned, shaking out her blade in cool disgust. She sheathed it and strode out. The icy winds followed her, and the household gave way for her. She stopped once more in the door, glancing back. She waited ‘till Satomi had the mind through the pain to look up again. Meeting his gaze, her face was as flat as the inch of metal she kept bare, as a warning to the men who still flanked her.
“The Satomi no longer holds any interest to our clan. This property now falls under the name of Kuchiki Byakuya. Someone,” she looked to the servants, “Should have the presence of mind to replace those mats.”
…and with that, the little woman left.