Megan (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
themegaloo) wrote2007-02-28 08:31 pm
themegaloo) wrote2007-02-28 08:31 pm
Fic: From the Desk of Kuchiki Byakuya
Wow, lookit that. Meg still writes fic on occasion.
Title: From the Desk of Kuchiki Byakuya
Author: Meg
Rating: PG? It's my usual indirect approach to absolutely everything. ^^;
Prompt: ByaRen, desk. As prompted by the ever loverly![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
_tehriah
Pairing: .....ByaRen
Words: 856
Kuchiki Byakua’s desk was always perfectly clean, organized, dull. Empty. Nothing but space for paperwork that would be immediately taken care of and dealt with leaving it empty once again.
It mirrored his life.
Clean. Organized. Plain. Compartmentalized. Dull.
Empty.
The desk of Abarai Renji was an entirely different story. Odds and ends picked up from various places littered the surface. Anything that had looked mildly interesting, like it could possibly aid in his procrastination, be it a simple rubix cube discarded in the human world, an interesting rock picked up on his way into the office (late, of course), a flower in an empty bottle that just happened to resemble the one on his fuku-taichou a bit too closely to be ignored…Each and every one of these things made it’s way to Renji’s desk.
Paperwork built up quickly in the spaces between and dispersed slowly. Nothing had a specific place, so everything was everywhere and wherever it happened to be was its place. It was navigatable, but only by Renji himself.
The same was true of Byakuya’s. For entirely the opposite reason.
They were opposites, entirely. Byakuya was always calm, poised, collected. Renji might be found in yesterdays clothing bickering with Ikkaku or Yumichika or Matsumoto in the corridor about who’s fault some disaster had been.
Byakuya was from the top, Renji was from the bottom and they met in the middle and made it work.
The first time Renji went out on mission and Byakuya sent an attendant to retrieve a form from his fuku-taichou’s desk, he had been forced to wait nearly twenty minutes to go see what was taking so long. He entered Renji’s workspace to find the younger Shinigami staring at the desk in dismay, trying to find the logic in placing a form about the repair of items damaged on missions with a request form for a larger filing cabinet and a memo about not leaving the teapot steaming the break room while wondering where in this madness the one, simple form detailing when he would be returning might possibly be located.
Byakuya had sighed and picked up a strange, plastic creature with bright blue hair and a sparkly piece of plastic on its midsection (”They call them trolls!” Renji had exclaimed upon acquiring the strange bit of paraphernalia from the human world), retrieving the desires form from beneath the creatures feet, replaced it as it was and left the office.
The attendant had stared, slack-jawed, and hoped that next time Kuchiki-taichou required something from Abarai-fukutaichou’s desk that he would skip the middle man and retrieve it himself.
When Byakuya was called to a meeting, he left instructions for work to continue in his absence. A request came in. Another lower-seat was faced with the same conundrum once again, though different. Which drawer could the blank form possibly be in? And how many could he open before it became obvious that someone had been perusing? And how likely was Kuchiki-taichou to understand why his things were out of order?
Renji entered with a bright grin, walked over and opened one drawer. He retrieved the paper and closed the drawer with a light thunk.
They were complete opposites, but they met in the middle and made it work in a way that only opposites could.
“Opposite,” perhaps, is too isolating a term. Perhaps more verily they were compliments, each filling the gaps the other would not admit to possessing. “Opposites” implies that they were entirely different and entirely independent. Perhaps at first this may have been true, but they had long since fallen into a comfortable combination of differing characteristics and created a solid relationship that only the two of them could properly understand.
It wasn’t a relationship of many words, but nor was it of many actions. It lingered, below the surface, kept out of sight, out of mind, and nearly out of existence.
But when the world is changing and moving and shifting, the surface must break and that which had long lain dormant beneath is shoved into view. Eyes widen, gazes linger, confidence which had seemed unending falters. A mask of cold indifference slips, a flash of something, some real, something true, something deep, something that has always been and always will be—it exists and if even for a moment, it is seen.
And when the ground lifts up and buckles, a fall must occur. It’s the balance of things, for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. It’s the opposites as they combine and meet that restore the balance.
It is your opposite who can catch you and restore you best when you fall, for they know what is true and what is not, for it the reverse of what exists within themselves.
And when it is finally ended, when equilibrium is rediscovered, a small crystal figure can be seen, carefully placed, upon the desk of Kuchiki Byakuya.
A delicate crystal figure.
Of a dog.
Howling at the stars.
Abarai Renji and Kuchiki Byakuya were complete opposites. But is only with its complete opposite and compliment can a soul truly unite.
Comprehension.
Connection.
Completion.
Comments = ♥ and snogs.
Title: From the Desk of Kuchiki Byakuya
Author: Meg
Rating: PG? It's my usual indirect approach to absolutely everything. ^^;
Prompt: ByaRen, desk. As prompted by the ever loverly
_tehriahPairing: .....ByaRen
Words: 856
Kuchiki Byakua’s desk was always perfectly clean, organized, dull. Empty. Nothing but space for paperwork that would be immediately taken care of and dealt with leaving it empty once again.
It mirrored his life.
Clean. Organized. Plain. Compartmentalized. Dull.
Empty.
The desk of Abarai Renji was an entirely different story. Odds and ends picked up from various places littered the surface. Anything that had looked mildly interesting, like it could possibly aid in his procrastination, be it a simple rubix cube discarded in the human world, an interesting rock picked up on his way into the office (late, of course), a flower in an empty bottle that just happened to resemble the one on his fuku-taichou a bit too closely to be ignored…Each and every one of these things made it’s way to Renji’s desk.
Paperwork built up quickly in the spaces between and dispersed slowly. Nothing had a specific place, so everything was everywhere and wherever it happened to be was its place. It was navigatable, but only by Renji himself.
The same was true of Byakuya’s. For entirely the opposite reason.
They were opposites, entirely. Byakuya was always calm, poised, collected. Renji might be found in yesterdays clothing bickering with Ikkaku or Yumichika or Matsumoto in the corridor about who’s fault some disaster had been.
Byakuya was from the top, Renji was from the bottom and they met in the middle and made it work.
The first time Renji went out on mission and Byakuya sent an attendant to retrieve a form from his fuku-taichou’s desk, he had been forced to wait nearly twenty minutes to go see what was taking so long. He entered Renji’s workspace to find the younger Shinigami staring at the desk in dismay, trying to find the logic in placing a form about the repair of items damaged on missions with a request form for a larger filing cabinet and a memo about not leaving the teapot steaming the break room while wondering where in this madness the one, simple form detailing when he would be returning might possibly be located.
Byakuya had sighed and picked up a strange, plastic creature with bright blue hair and a sparkly piece of plastic on its midsection (”They call them trolls!” Renji had exclaimed upon acquiring the strange bit of paraphernalia from the human world), retrieving the desires form from beneath the creatures feet, replaced it as it was and left the office.
The attendant had stared, slack-jawed, and hoped that next time Kuchiki-taichou required something from Abarai-fukutaichou’s desk that he would skip the middle man and retrieve it himself.
When Byakuya was called to a meeting, he left instructions for work to continue in his absence. A request came in. Another lower-seat was faced with the same conundrum once again, though different. Which drawer could the blank form possibly be in? And how many could he open before it became obvious that someone had been perusing? And how likely was Kuchiki-taichou to understand why his things were out of order?
Renji entered with a bright grin, walked over and opened one drawer. He retrieved the paper and closed the drawer with a light thunk.
They were complete opposites, but they met in the middle and made it work in a way that only opposites could.
“Opposite,” perhaps, is too isolating a term. Perhaps more verily they were compliments, each filling the gaps the other would not admit to possessing. “Opposites” implies that they were entirely different and entirely independent. Perhaps at first this may have been true, but they had long since fallen into a comfortable combination of differing characteristics and created a solid relationship that only the two of them could properly understand.
It wasn’t a relationship of many words, but nor was it of many actions. It lingered, below the surface, kept out of sight, out of mind, and nearly out of existence.
But when the world is changing and moving and shifting, the surface must break and that which had long lain dormant beneath is shoved into view. Eyes widen, gazes linger, confidence which had seemed unending falters. A mask of cold indifference slips, a flash of something, some real, something true, something deep, something that has always been and always will be—it exists and if even for a moment, it is seen.
And when the ground lifts up and buckles, a fall must occur. It’s the balance of things, for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. It’s the opposites as they combine and meet that restore the balance.
It is your opposite who can catch you and restore you best when you fall, for they know what is true and what is not, for it the reverse of what exists within themselves.
And when it is finally ended, when equilibrium is rediscovered, a small crystal figure can be seen, carefully placed, upon the desk of Kuchiki Byakuya.
A delicate crystal figure.
Of a dog.
Howling at the stars.
Abarai Renji and Kuchiki Byakuya were complete opposites. But is only with its complete opposite and compliment can a soul truly unite.
Comprehension.
Connection.
Completion.
Comments = ♥ and snogs.