Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Five Cities ❯ Five Cities ( Chapter 1 )

[ P - Pre-Teen ]
…Yellow tongues of fire licking her feet and face and hands, her bloodied nails clawing at the black clay walls, the unbearable heat and smoke filling her lungs, and a pair of amber eyes piercing through her…


Soft, yellow rays of sunlight crept through the wrinkles of Rukia Kuchiki’s unmade bed. She had long realized sleep would be a lost cause as her recurrent dream since childhood chased her halfway around the world. She sighed.


The sun broke through the line of trees over Central Park. Well, better get started. I don’t want to be late on my first lecture outside the country. The sound of the telephone jarred her back to the present.

“Hello.”


“Ohayou gozaimasu, Ms. Kuchiki. This is the Michelle from reception for you wake-up call.”


“Thank you.” She replaced the receiver and went about making her coffee. There were a lot more important things to do than worry about than a stupid dream.


Rukia arrived at the reception hall and waited a few minutes before her boss arrived.


“Shunsui-taichou, ohayou gozaimasu. Director Urahara has been kind enough to arrange transportation for us and is waiting at the entrance. I trust you had your breakfast already. Hopefully, the symposium will end at 1:15 pm so we can finish the meeting after at an earlier time,” Rukia walks briskly toward the entrance.

“Rukia-chan, good morning.” Shunsui greets pleasantly. “Have you had a good night’s sleep? Did your brother call? I told him last night when he enquired about you not to worry since you were out checking the night life here in New York and –“


“TAICHOU! How could you?!” Rukia’s eyes went wide and automatically reached for her phone. Of all the things – Nii-san would wring my neck!


“Haha. Relax, my little flower, it was a joke. You shouldn’t be so glum in the morning
of your lecture. ” Shunsui beamed as he patted her head as they headed out.


Sometimes she wondered how her brother could get along with a laidback person such as Shunsui. Perhaps it was due to this differing attitudes that lead to such an unlikely friendship. The Kuchikis and Shunsuis were both from the old money in Kyoto. Her brother and the director had the same calligraphy master. But as Byakuya is the only son, he was destined to lead the construction company left to him by his father. Shunsui, the youngest son in a brood of four, was able to choose as he pleased and pursued his passion for ink and brush.


*******


The Metropolitan Museum of Art is an imposing structure built during 1866 to house the important treasures from all over the globe. This month they are focusing of eastern scrolls from Japan as part of promoting the most recent gift of the emperor during his latest visit in New York City last week, a beautiful piece of Prince Shotoku at Age Sixteen dating from the 14th century. She was part of the team sent provide proper instructions on the care of the scrolls. Shunsui insisted that she be part of the team despite her misgivings. “I have already asked permission from your brother. It’s not good to keep you cooped up in Kyoto. You have to broaden your horizons to find yourself.” Later that night, at her brother’s study, he barely looked up from his papers before saying. “Shunsui told me your restoration of the Shotoku series has been impressive.”


“Yes, nii-sama.”



“You have my permission to leave. We shall discuss… important matters when you come home.”



Rukia’s train of thought was broken when they have reached the museum gates.
It was quite a crowd that greeted them as her small group braved the steps toward the entrance 30 minutes before the opening. Apart from the exhibit for the general public, there is also an ongoing symposium on the latest art restoration techniques, attracting the various art gallery curators from all over the country.



There was an energy in the crowd she could not describe, making her hair stand on end. It was quite a shock for her especially since the museum where she was employed was so tranquil you could hear the proverbial pin drop. It was a holiday weekend and scores of families with their screaming toddlers in strollers, with their balloons and cotton candies and hotdogs lining up at the entrance. She hoped that when she enters the hall, she would be more relaxed. It was probably from the lack of sleep.


She was greeted by the usher and was directed to the back stage.


“Kuchiki-san, good morning. I am Hinamori and I will assist you today. Since you are our first lecturer, would you like to check your presentation first?”


“Thank you, Hinamori-san. Do you have extra batteries in case my pointer goes out? Also, Director Shunsui’s presentation I’d like to have a run-through to make sure it’s working…”


She looked over her shoulder to find Shunsui already greeting his counterpart, Urahara Kisuke. She had to bite back a smile. When she briefly met with Urahara last year at Kyoto, suffice to say those two were kindred spirits.


When she was satisfied with the preparation, she was directed to the lounge for speakers. Not feeling hungry, she leafed through the pages of the current newsletter and settled with the article which read:


“Cairo Museum announces the discovery of the Reversal Scroll.” Despite her specialty in oriental scroll preservation, she developed a healthy interest in western culture especially with the historical parchments in European countries. Two of her theses were actually comparisons of the preservation techniques used by the two cultures. It was a shame that she couldn’t come to the Egypt and Israel to check their versions of the papyrus preservation due to the unrest there despite approval of her requests from the Cairo museum. However, the British Museum has enough material on that so she hit two birds in one stone.


“ Kuchiki-san? The lecture is about to start. Please come with me.”



***


Her lecture was quite well received and the few questions asked she was able to answer thoroughly. What she did not expect was for Shunsui and Ukitake to skip the meeting together citing that they were invited by the consul for lunch. Well, knowing those two she should’ve anticipated something like this. This left her to handle the meeting discussing details re the final resting place of the scroll. The small consolation for that meeting was that she was with Nanao, Kisuke’s capable assistant director.


They have met through video conference previously and Nanao was as meticulous as she. However, all decisions in the meeting will still need the signature of their absentee bosses for final approval. She hated having these things hanging in her head. But Nanao just shrugged and was about to leave. “We are in the same boat, our bosses dawdling about while we hold the fort. Give it a few years. You’re cut out to be a boss with the way you handle things. We have cocktails upstairs so you won’t think about those idiots.”


I don’t have a few years. She muttered to herself as she followed her host.


***


Rukia was vaguely admiring the Egyptian collection. She finished her rounds prematurely at the cocktail party of the Met upstairs and escaped here. At first, there were no problems - pleasantries offered, business cards exchanged. However it did not go unnoticed that Rukia Kuchiki was sister to the business magnate, as she had hoped. Some patrons of the museum were in the same circle as Byakuya or have at least heard of him. She did not have any qualms about it really. Until Marechiyo Omaeda had carelessly asked, “ So Kuchiki-sama, when will be your wedding to my good cousin Ganju?”


It had taken her a few seconds to find her voice. “Omaeda-san, it is yet to be made official. An statement will be announced at a later time.”


“Ohohoho, don’t worry, don’t worry, we’re practically family now,” Omaeda blithely answers, and Rukia had downed her half full wineglass to drown her comments to herself.


I shouldn’t have left the party, she thought ruefully as she let her feet take her through hall where the vastly different constructions of sarcophagi of Payuhor and Wennefer were in display. She was used to it, attending social gatherings that made her feet hurt from hours of seiza, a passive mask in place as the elders discuss her fate like she was not there. I was truly looking forward to this trip, this fleeting moment of freedom from the Byakuya’s coldness, the elders’ snide remarks, the stuffiness of the Kuchiki mansion. Here, I stood in the podium not as the sister of the business magnate nor an outsider that wormed its way to the Kuchiki wealth, but as a capable woman who knew what she was talking about and who took her worked her way to the top. Rukia could not see where she was going now. When she felt wetness trailing down her face, only then she realized that she was crying. She blinked. She shouldn’t cry. She doesn’t cry. What is someone saw her? She made a sudden turn to look for a corner and wipe her tears.


Once she had settled somewhat, she took a deep breath and turned to take good look at her surroundings. Where the hell am I? She fumbled for a museum brochure she picked up on the way here and stuffed in her purse. She looked at the nearest display, a limestone fragment almost as tall as her with a profile of a pharaoh beautifully etched. “Relief with the Head of Amenhotep I…” she read. Great. There was probably around 10 galleries dedicated to the Met’s Egyptian collection alone! She really needed to get back to the party upstairs. As she was about to turn, she realized she was not alone. A figure stood in the other end of the hall, his back to him. As much as she didn’t want to embarrass herself by asking a stranger where they were, it was the fastest way to get out of here. Maybe I can ask him at least what gallery I’m in. She started walking in his direction. He was in front of a life-size statue of another pharaoh. She was sure it was a pharaoh from the distinctive headdress but the more she looked, the statue had no beard and had distinctly feminine features. And, are those boobs? She knew from her distant knowledge of Egyptian history in college there were some female pharaohs but she didn’t really think much about it. She was about to speak when she heard the guy talking softly.


“Who would’ve thought you’d be stuck here in this dark room, when all you’ve wanted was to stand proudly over the Nubian plains…”


Several thoughts were running through her head. One was that she was alone with a guy talking to a statue and that alone was a good reason to get out of there as quickly as possible. Another was the irrational familiarity she felt with this voice that said things that kept echoing through her. She stood there, torn between running and catching more of this man’s babble that somehow made sense.


He turned. And Rukia finally saw the face of the amber-eyed man that haunted her for so long.