For afrai.
---
"I will wear no such thing," Byakuya said, gazing coldly at the offending red garment.
"But-- Byakuya-sama-- surely, the cabin walls are so drafty-- erk," Hanatarou stopped abruptly as Byakuya fixed him with a look; a look that told him in no uncertain terms precisely how low these--longjohns---were, in relation to the dignity of a Kuchiki. (Very low.)
"The cold does not affect me," Byakuya said, after a moment.
Hanatarou hesitated, unsure how to continue. Surely one couldn't-- one dared not suggest that Byakuya-sama's breath was coming in little white puffs? That Byakuya-sama's teeth were chattering ever so slightly? He chewed his lower lip nervously.
"Achoo," Byakuya said, in tones of stoic misery.
"Oh, dear," said Hanatarou.
---