Byakuya frowned as he looked at his most حالیہ report. It was short, not because there wasn't anything to رپورٹ it was that he could not seem to find the right way to put it down on the paper. Every time he began to think she was there with her scars so devastating he could not imagine how she had survived. Yet she had. He picked up the flawless pearl he had acquired from the cache she had دیا the Society. Drako's Hoard. Who were they really to be able to pay such a sum. It was مزید than a yr's worth of the Sorieti's budget, all for one person. He put the pearl up to his nose and caught the faint scent of cinnamon. He relaxed under its scent, closing his eyes he found himself enveloped in the image of her hair that had been...fire. Byakuya opened his eyes, yes her hair had been the very آگ کے, آگ that had taken out the enforcer. What did that mean? Could she be the Soul Smith that they were hunting یا just some new unfounded power unleashed in an emotional outburst. She had no fear, no worry other then the girl that Renji had seen to safety. He sighed and eased back in his chair. Why was he on the verge of allowing his emotions to overwhelm his common sense. Its was so irritating. He crumpled up the رپورٹ and threw it in the waste paper basket. Rubbing his eyes he decided to go over the school papers...No he couldn't. There too was a delima as the شارک incident had Jazmine now here as well. Now instead of just the story of having become married to the archeologist. He now had to find her and explain himself to her. Getting up he straightened up his uniform and looked out into his garden. His mother's درخت swayed softly beneath the starlight, its green leaves and buds just soft little kernels on the branches. He had no true memory of his own of her. For him he only had 2nd hand from those servants who could remember her, her diary and the few sketches his father had done. Yet the درخت brought a peaceful feeling. "Your mother would lay out beneath that درخت for hours sewing your clothes, drinking sweat چائے and laughing while talking to herself. Yet if آپ asked her she would say she was talking to her little friend who was rather shy and would only دکھائیں herself to her and you. Though it was strange آپ took to walking and talking nearly before the first year. She died out there beneath the tree, she looked as if she were just asleep. Your father was distraught, but he smiled softly. Instead of cursing the ancestors he thanked them because she lived far longer then any who had been poisoned before with that poison. He praised the Gods that آپ showed no signs of having any lasting damage of the poison yourself."
The poison had been passed to his mother in the special چائے that she received as a gift from the next-door neighbor. He frowned, he should have been miscarried with the amount of poison she had ingested. Yet he was here and she was not. His memory twitched and he saw a puggy face with twinkling changing eyes. A wisp of red hair found its way into his hand, which he fisted. "His name is Byakuya. Say hello Byakuya to the two angels who saved you." His mother's soft recovering voice floated to his new born ears. "Oh my I'm no angel, but Uncle Mikey is he's an ar...ar... how do آپ say it again?" A man's chuckle light and warm answered. "Archangel my little norther star. Now 6 months is all I can allow and for those six آپ will be his guardian."
"But that's not enough! How can آپ take his momma
when he needs her!"
"Child do not argue, I am beyond grateful for the time and healing آپ have دیا me and my little Byakuya. I can never repay you."
"Its still not fair!" The little girl was crying. "Now stop that! If آپ want آپ can remain his guardian ever after."
His mother gasped out. "Yes. Yes! Please watch over my little Byakuya when I am gone!"
"Bu... but...oh alright! But I'm still not happy!" The Archangel merely chuckled. "When will آپ ever be? Come on آپ can start tomorrow, today is for the family."