The first time you met him; you were fifteen.
You and Rukia, your older sister, was part of the small percentage of modern day girls who had their future husbands chosen by their father. You had been aware of this since you were old enough to understand the concept of marriage. Unlike Rukia, you had accepted it and had made an effort not to fall in love with some boy before you met your future husband. And much less afterwards.
To you it had been a love story in the making, something that would have girls swooning and boys rolling their eyes. You had especially liked the idea that your father knew you well enough to know what type of boy you would like.
Never mind the fact that your marriage had been arranged long before you even turned a week old.
The day you met him was a year ahead of the original schedule. Your father, Kuchiki Byakuya, had decided that since Rukia was meeting her future husband, you might as well. Rukia had been difficult about it; she really hated the idea of being married off, but in the end went with good grace.
No one, not even his own children, defied Kuchiki Byakuya.
Rukia had been her strong and determined self. The restaurant had been fancy, but even you could tell that having three of the most powerful families in all of Japan in it was an exciting experience for the staff. You had hid behind your father, like a small child. Your hands had been curled into his jacket around his waist and you had peeked out from beneath his elbows as he spoke to the two family heads before him. Rukia had stood calmly beside your mother, with a look that was just daring the Kurosaki boy to think she would be submissive.
He was three years older than you. The sleeves of his black button up had been rolled up against his arms and his white tie had been neatly folded. His arms had been crossed over his chest and a serious expression had been firmly planted on his face as the grown ups spoke. He had the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen on a boy and a shock of white hair and a gorgeously healthy tan to his skin.
You had still been staring at him from beneath your father’s arm when he had turned those gem like eyes on you. He had smiled at you, something you saw very rarely after that, and unfolded his arms and stretched one out to you.
You fell in love with that smile.
“Hitsugaya Toshiro, pleasure to meet you.”