[ Naturally, he hears the approaching footsteps from outside the dojo, though he pays them no need, expecting whomever's disturbing him not to prolong the issue unnecessarily. In this house, sound travels. The stillness flickers, vibrates - and then -
His skin prickles at the sound of the door, sliding open. The sudden, very unexpected sense of company, of another body sharing his space when he'd expected nothing of the kind, is almost startling. Forcing himself to ignore the intruder and complete his set, he lets the sounds of the man's words - quiet, relatively unobtrusive - fade into the air. He doesn't even allow himself to consider his existence for the next twenty-two seconds as he goes through the motions, finishing by sheathing Senbonzakura nearly soundlessly. Keeping his back to the other man, he allows the silence to stretch on for another thirty seconds, giving him the chance to back away and leave. Seike, he knows, is not near. The servant will suffer no consequences.
Then, when nothing else happens, Byakuya allows his fingers to slide over the hilt of his sword, not as a threat but as a gesture of idleness, one he immediately regrets. He says, voice low and completely devoid of any signs of exertion: ]
You could have remained silent.
[ Even as he says it, a part of him - something internal and raw - shudders. What, then, would he do? With more silence? With more of the same?
Frowning to himself, he glances over his shoulder. The servant is a nameless man, features blurred by his angle of sight as well as how he keeps his gaze firmly rooted to the mat. ]
no subject
His skin prickles at the sound of the door, sliding open. The sudden, very unexpected sense of company, of another body sharing his space when he'd expected nothing of the kind, is almost startling. Forcing himself to ignore the intruder and complete his set, he lets the sounds of the man's words - quiet, relatively unobtrusive - fade into the air. He doesn't even allow himself to consider his existence for the next twenty-two seconds as he goes through the motions, finishing by sheathing Senbonzakura nearly soundlessly. Keeping his back to the other man, he allows the silence to stretch on for another thirty seconds, giving him the chance to back away and leave. Seike, he knows, is not near. The servant will suffer no consequences.
Then, when nothing else happens, Byakuya allows his fingers to slide over the hilt of his sword, not as a threat but as a gesture of idleness, one he immediately regrets. He says, voice low and completely devoid of any signs of exertion: ]
You could have remained silent.
[ Even as he says it, a part of him - something internal and raw - shudders. What, then, would he do? With more silence? With more of the same?
Frowning to himself, he glances over his shoulder. The servant is a nameless man, features blurred by his angle of sight as well as how he keeps his gaze firmly rooted to the mat. ]
Why are you here?