#this man tried to spell 'murcielago' to me

[recurring-polynya]

Today’s AU suggestion comes from Tumblr user @missdramaqueensworld We had a bit of a back-n-forth, and I hope you don’t mind that I mushed a couple of your suggestions together into a Lighthearted Superheroes AU! Byakuya has always given me Big Bruce Wayne vibes, what with his extensive wealth and his flair for the overdramatic and his propensity for collecting orphans. I think I got the spirit of the thing (and, of course, the opening line!) I hope you like it!! (Note: I didn’t include the original prompt because it was very detailed and I didn’t want to give everything away, but please give credit to @missdramaqueensworld for all the good ideas and me for all the terrible superhero names)

Read on ao3 or ff.net

🦸    🌸    💥

“Hisana,” Byakuya called, as he contemplated the secret niche that was hidden behind the rear panel of his ancillary special occasion shoe closet. “Where is Senbonzakura?”

“Where’s what?” his beloved wife’s voice rang back.

Byakuya gritted his back teeth. “The mystical sword that has been passed down through twenty-eight generations of my family that allows me to fight crime as the mysterious hero Captain Sakura?”

Hisana leaned up against the doorframe of his closet. “Haven’t seen it. Where’s the non-mystical, yet very expensive tuxedo that allows you to escort me to the charity benefit that I’ve been planning for three months?”

“I am not joking, Hisana, I have a responsibility to the city!”

“That’s right, you do! You’re a charming and handsome philanthropist who is helping his beautiful wife raise piles of money for underprivileged children!”

Byakuya tried to rack his brain. Where could he have left the thing? “You know very well what I mean. The city is under attack by dark forces. Dark forces, Hisana!”

Hisana put her hands on her hips. “Don’t you have sidekicks for this?”

“They do not like being called sidekicks, they are allegedly adults now. Besides, you are the one who told me to stop bothering them so much. They have their own lives now, you said.” Which vehicle had he used last? The Sakura Bike? The Sakura Jet? He didn’t think it was the Sakura Jet-Ski, but honestly, all of last week was just blurring together.

“They can have their own lives on nights when I don’t have a charity benefit,” Hisana hissed.

Wait. He’d had that unfortunately team-up with the Great Desert Brothers (or were they calling themselves Phantom Thief NelDoPe again?) and he’d had to spend a great deal of time cleaning “Infinite Slick” off of Senbonzakura afterwards. The sword was probably on his workbench down in the Sakura Cave. Byakuya turned and attempted to exit his own closet, only to find his way blocked by the one opponent he had never truly bested: his 4’11”, stunningly beautiful and amazingly brilliant wife. “Excuse me,” he said.

“Excuse you?” Hisana asked, her eyes wide with false innocence. “You are not going down to the Sakura Cave.”

“I am going to the Sakura Cave.”

“You’re going down to the Sakura Cave because you’re going to drive us to the charity benefit in the pink Lambo, right?”

Byakuya regarded her. “The Sakuramobile is for official Captain Sakura business only. You are welcome to take the Aventador or the Huracan if you like.”

Hisana threw her hands out at her sides. “Byakuya. Look at me.”

Byakuya looked. Respectfully, of course. His wife was clad in a form-fitting navy blue sheath that flared just below her knees. From the front, the neckline was high and modest, but he knew for a fact that it swept low, exposing nearly the whole of her back. Her hair was swept up into an intricate knot at the nape of her neck. An array of tiny diamond hairpins shone like stars among the night sky of her tresses. Her makeup, as always, was impeccable, from her silvery smokey eye to the kissable red of her lips.

“Imagine!” she wailed. “Me! Walking through those huge doors at the Museum of Contemporary Art. By myself! To my own fundraiser!”

“I can imagine it,” Byakuya agreed. “You will turn every head in the room. That cad, Kuchiki, they will say. The fool. He knows not what he has.”

Hisana narrowed her eyes at him.

“The most beautiful woman in Seireitei City, for once, away from the overprotective glare of her impossibly handsome husband.”

Hisana rolled her eyes.

“You will have the undivided attention of every man in the room and more than a few of the women. They will be elbowing each other out of the way for the merest crumbs of your regard. And you, being you, should no doubt be able to spin these tragic circumstances into a positively dizzying pile of donation checks. That should make the orphans very happy, yes?”

Hisana’s face was screwed up into a lovely scowl, as her desire for his company warred with her love for parting cretinous billionaires from their walking-around money. Byakuya didn’t blame her, of course. She was a very patient and understanding woman to so frequently part from her charming and debonair husband in the best interests of Justice. Nevertheless, the city needed him at this desperate hour.

“And I promise,” Byakuya continued, lowering his eyelids seductively, “that I shall sweep in before the night concludes, to rebuke those fools who would ever doubt my devotion to you.”

The tip of Hisana’s nose twitched. He had her.

“You have to show up at the dedication of the new community center.”

“Of course I would show up--”

“In the costume.”

Byakuya’s jaw tightened. “Hisana.”

“Captain Sakura is the third most popular superhero among children aged 7 to 12.”

“Third! I used to be second!” Byakuya had an angry suspicion whom he had been overtaken by.

“Used to be,” Hisana replied. “Maybe you should think about making more personal appearances. And flex more. I hear that children love flexing.” Dammit, this further confirmed his suspicions.

Byakuya heaved a sigh. “Fine. I will show up and charm the little rapscallions. I will not ‘flex.’ Please, may I go now?”

Hisana gracefully stepped to one side. “Good luck. Stay safe.” She touched his arm gently as he swished past, and went up on her tiptoes to bring her face closer to his. “And check the umbrella stand in the front hall. That’s where your magic sword was last time.”

Captain Sakura alighted on the rooftop of Metropolitan Bank with the grace of a drifting flower petal. A large hole cratered the bitumen and the smell of C-4 hung unpleasantly in the air. Below, police sirens wailed and sirens cast blue and red reflections. Also, there was bickering.

“Are you sure he can breath in there?”

“I am a professional, of course he can breathe! You don’t believe me? I’ll trap you in a block of ice!”

“I never said I didn’t believe you, I just-- hey, look who’s here! Good to see you, Captain!”

Byakuya crossed his arms over his chest. “Yuki-onna. Sakura Boy.”

Yuki-onna, Mistress of the Ice and Snow, groaned. “You know very well he goes by Red Ronin now.”

Sakura Boy looked very much like he was biting his tongue as he tapped his massive whip-sword on his shoulder.

“Who was the perpetrator?” Byakuya asked, squinting inside the block of ice.

“That toothy bastard, Preying Mantis,” Sakura Boy supplied.

“He is one of the Ten Espada, you know, they often travel in--”

“We caught his dweeby sidekick downstairs, the police already have him,” Rukia replied. “We already swept the premises. You really didn’t need to come out.”

“It is bad enough,” Byakuya bit off, “that you two refused to take a honeymoon. You are supposed to be on a… a whatsit…” he waved one hand vaguely. “A stay-cation?”

“Eh, it’s not like we have hobbies,” Renji added, poking the block of ice with his sword.

“And aren’t you supposed to be raising money? For underprivileged children?” Rukia accused.

“I will be making a dramatically late entrance,” Byakuya snapped.

“Well,” Renji frowned philosophically, “as long as you’re here, can you help us figure out how to get this guy down to the ground?”

Children. You could raise them, give them their own utility belt, teach them to drive a jet ski, but they would still ask for your help in moving a seven-foot-tall mantis man trapped in a block of ice.

“Of course,” Byakuya agreed.