Undisclosed Desires (1/7)
Title: Undisclosed Desires
Characters: Jyuushiro Ukitake, Stark, Kenpachi Zaraki, Shunsui Kyouraku, Nanao Ise, etc.
Pairings: Zaraki/Ukitake, Kyouraku/Ukitake, Ukitake/Stark, and some others in the background.
Rating: R for language, some violence and slash in later sections.
Summary: Captain Ukitake finds himself focusing more on recovering in addition to possible truces and alliances than fights as he spends time alone with Stark. Kyouraku ultimately has his hands full waiting for his friend's safe return and assisting others while Zaraki forces his way back to Hueco Mundo from the fake Karakura Town battlefield.
However, as the Winter War seems to wind down, Aizen has a fair more sinister and less straightforward goal in mind. And it might just be that the differences between shinigami and
arrancar are not so great as appearances might suggest.
Author’s Note: For the sake of clarification, I have written this fic using primarily the last names of the characters because that seemed to flow better. I think it’s because they all have titles and ranks and use each other’s last names more often anyway. In addition, the title of this fic comes from a Muse song by the same name.
Thanks to kittydesade for pointing this challenge out, joyinthedance for looking it over, hedonisticated and ravens_rising for putting up with me and looking it over, scarlite for letting me bounce ideas off of her like ten seconds after the first time we chatted, and fic writers and/or Bleach fans on my f-list. <3 You're all awesome and supportive.
Disclaimer: I own no one. As far as spoilers go, this was written before the latest Stark chapters of Bleach, and so, it deviates greatly from the way the battle over the fake Karakura Town seems to be playing out in the manga.
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
*
Having suffered greatly from a wide variety of complaints and most regularly from his own recurring illness throughout the course of his life, Ukitake was accustomed to waking up in pain. He was not, however, accustomed to having his chest run through by an arrancar with very little in terms of intelligence. Then again, Aizen wasn’t interested in any intelligence outside or in addition to his own. Wonderweiss’ value came from his raw power.
Blinking his eyes several times, he decided the pain was more tolerable than he’d expected. In fact, it felt more like an ache than anything else. Surely he’d sustained considerable damage in spite of his age and strength. Weakly, he sought at the wound, confused to find his fingers resting on bandages when by all rights they should have been sticky from congealed blood. His outfit had changed too, but with sheets and blankets surrounding him, Ukitake couldn’t quite make the effort to see what it was. Not his haori and not his kimono. Not even his hakama. A yukata perhaps?
Above him was a white ceiling instead of a sky, and underneath him was a mattress. It wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t horrible.
How many hours or days had passed was hard to estimate. He didn’t know, but Ukitake certainly felt that the battle over the fake Karakura Town and the future of the Soul Society couldn’t have possibly ended already. Nor could the matter have been resolved in any neat fashion. Even if it was, Ukitake was fairly certain he wasn’t in Soul Society. For one thing, his zanpakutou was nowhere nearby. For another, the neat work on his bandages and the fact that the wound underneath them was healed over meant Unohana had looked after him herself.
Then there was vaguely familiar reiatsu of the man entering the room to consider. Stark.
“Good,” the Espada murmured before yawning. “You’re awake.”
Sitting up took some effort, but Ukitake managed it and he managed a few more blinks when he was handed a mug.
“Drink.”
“What’s-”
“Drink first. That Captain said you’d need it.”
“Poison?” The shingami asked, mostly because he felt obligated to be suspicious of the arranacar who had taken Shunsui out of the fight. He sincerely hoped his friend’s recovery had been more speedy than his own.
“Water. And it would be a little stupid to be suspicious of me now, wouldn’t it? I could have left you in a puddle of your own blood if I wanted you dead.”
Which left the question of what did Stark want, but there were several more pressing concerns.
“Then this is…”
“My home, yes. The Lieutenant who attempted to see to your needs insisted he wasn’t up for the job, and that the better healers could be found here.”
“Why did you get involved?”
Stark’s lips twisted in what looked like a thoughtful grimace. “Hn. That’s right. You slept through some key fights.”
“And?” He found himself scooting further back on the mattress as the Primera sat on the end of it. Stark looked more amused by the action than anything else.
“Let’s keep it simple. Let’s say I prefer the way your people treat your allies.”
“So you’re seeking to became one?”
“I’m in the process of doing so, I should think. First I brought you here then I brought several Captains there. And the rest of the motley crew stranded here. To that effect, that Inoue girl insisted I make sure you get better.”
Ukitake’s eyes widened and he found himself drinking a few more sips. There was no reason for this Espada to lie about such things. He didn’t seem to be the type although certainly other arrancars would have derived pleasure from such manipulations.
His help must have been more than a little unexpected, and yet it must have come as something of a blessing. On one hand, Soul Society could hardly afford to turn away help, but on the other it would not last for much longer if its leaders did not put more stock on believing what could be gleaned from first experiences and appearances. In that respect, Ukitake felt that Stark wasn’t the worst arrancar he could be stuck with or forced to rely upon. Of all the warriors in Aizen’s sizable army, Stark had seemed the most uninterested in fighting and the only one who showed any reluctance in killing.
And even Yama-ji would have to overlook a great deal for someone willing to use Gargantua for the purpose of aiding Soul Society against Sousuke Aizen.
Stark looked both amused and pleased by the shinigami’s startled look. “I’m tempted to say she told me to give you a hug for her just to see your reaction to that. I hope you don’t faint when I say some people called Vaizards showed up.”
Ukitake looked surprised before rolling his eyes. “Is that even true?”
“It is. I’m sure you’ll see them soon.”
Ever since the arrival of Ichigo Kurosaki, the battles the shinigami engaged in seemed to grow more and more numerous and convoluted. And processing the rest of that information would have to wait, because Ukitake had one more question, and the more he knew about the others currently engaged in battle, the more he needed to be given an answer. “What of Shunsui Kyouraku? The shinigami you-”
Looking horribly inconvenienced and put out, Stark sighed wearily as if he’d had to explain himself several times already. In all likelihood, he must have had to so to be given so much trust and faith by shinigami who were nearly out of such luxuries.
“I did not enjoy that. Such tactics are necessary and yet regrettable. But then such practices are fairly common place in wars and on battle grounds, as you well know.”
“I wasn’t placing blame. I just need to know…” He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath and continuing. “I want to know his current condition. If you’re my ally, you should tell me.”
Stark reached a hand out and patted Ukitake’s. “I see I’ve alarmed you, but you’ll be glad to know such concerns are unwarranted. Rest assured that I remember him very well beyond the injuries he sustained. Injuries he has begun to recover from, and swiftly too.”
Ukitake nodded, not trusting himself to say anything for a few seconds. Then he asked:
“Does this bring me up to the present?”
“Just about.”
“You didn’t need to help me to be considered an ally.”
“Yeah? I don’t know about that. Lilinette said she wasn’t going to think well of me for leaving you where you were.”
Ukitake felt his mouth turn up into a small smile. She probably wanted to be the one to finish off herself someday, and in that case, the shinigami was likely to live for a very, very long time if not indefinitely.
But returning his focus to his current conversation, the good-natured Captain found that he could only frown in consternation. “Touching as that is, more important things were… are happening. I could have been healed there.”
Stark shrugged his shoulders before looking back over at Ukitake. “Maybe. Or maybe I personally didn’t think it was right to leave you there just because everyone else was okay with it.”
“Why?”
Stretching languidly and without any preamble whatsoever, Stark laid back on the bed. He did so while still leaving a considerable distance between them, but he didn’t seem troubled by the notion of sharing a bed with someone he’d been fighting earlier that day. “Look, if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather talk when you’re more up to the challenge.”
“I can… It’s not important that you let me recover here.”
“I’m supposed to make you rest a bit more than bring you on through. They might need you again, but odds are they might not. You’ve helped out already.”
Sighing heavily, he sipped at the drink and leaned forward gingerly letting his hair fall over his face as he accepted this as fact. Ukitake knew from experience that battles were waged and won well enough by others while he stayed in bed. This, of course, stung mightily, but a shinigami could learn to live with slightly battered pride so long as his honor was not questioned or besmirched. A shinigami, he knew, could live through more things than a shinigami often wished to. And Ukitake didn’t have to like it for it to make sense.
A gloved hand smoothed back some of his hair, and Ukitake glanced down at Stark who had apparently wormed his way further up the bed while the Captain had allowed himself to teeter on the brink of wallowing in self-pity.
“Hey. No one could think less of you from needing some time to recover from the chest wound you got.”
Having the hand of an Espada so far in his personal space ought to have upset him, but Ukitake found that he might not have minded so much if the hand hadn’t been covered by cloth. Whether this was because he’d once again come close to a final death or because Stark bore such a strange resemblance to Shunsui was hard to say.
“You’re not like me,” the arrancar added.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m no good at fighting for long stretches of time,” Stark pointed out with a thin smirk “I’m useless after awhile if I don’t take a nap.”
Ukitake snorted. “Is that so?”
“Very much so. And the exact opposite’s true for Lilinette.”
“That must be frustrating.”
“Nah, more like annoying and inconvenient.”
“Hm.”
Smirking again in a lazy feline fashion, Stark moved further up the bed until he was propping an elbow on one of the pillows next to Ukitake. “Anyway, hear me out. Maybe this whole rest thing will take longer than you’d like, but I for one could use it.”
Laughing, the Captain shook his head. “Are you suggesting that in order to make myself feel better, I should blame the extended delay on you instead of my body? I don’t know about that.”
“I don’t mind much. So. Sound fair to you, shinigami?”
“Jyuushirou.”
“Jyuushirou,” Stark repeated slowly in a way that would have made Ukitake blush if he’d been a few centuries younger. Instead he simply smiled. “I like that. And for the record I think your body’s just fine.”
“One would think that a closer examination would be in order for someone to reach that conclusion.”
Stark chuckled and rolled onto his side facing away from him. If he’d known him better or for longer, the Captain would have been half-tempted to pull on his shoulder until he rolled in the opposite direction. “That’s because you think I just dumped you on that one Captain and left while she took care of you. What a naïve ex-enemy you are, shinigami.”
“Jyuushirou.”
At that, the Espada did move over until they were facing one another. “Believe me, Jyuushirou. The last thing I plan on doing is forgetting your name.”
*
Ise kept alternating between looking after him, and lecturing him as he walked around. Kyouraku had never been the type to sit still for long unlike Jyuushirou who could sit still for hours. Jyuushirou… Well, if he possessed any common sense at all, he was hopefully sitting very still and resting.
“With all due respect, I told you all that chasing tail was going to come back and haunt you in the end. Maybe if you’d focused more on him, he wouldn’t be in Hueco Mundo.” Ah. Fifteen minutes of pampering seemed to be up once again.
Truth be told, the Eighth Division Captain couldn’t even bring himself to mind. If asked, he would have gestured all around them. He would have insisted that too much fighting was going on, and too many old familiar faces were showing up for him to pay much attention to the established routine between them. Just as Kyouraku would have blamed all of the tightness in his chest on the cero wounds he’d suffered.
“Maa, Nanao-chan,” he muttered, stopping only when he found his kimono. It wasn’t fit to wear thanks to his wounds and more than likely Ukitake’s as well, but unlike his friend, the garment was immediately retrievable. His straw hat on the other hand… Where on earth had that wandered off to?
“…Are you even listening to me?”
“No.” Kyouraku delighted in tormenting her with honesty. “I’ve lost track. Are you talking about Lisa or Jyuushirou now?”
“We ought to be discussing Captain Ukitake.” Ise had yet to express her thoughts on seeing former lieutenant Yadomaru. If decades of experience were to be trusted, she was unlikely to be forthcoming with said sentiments any time soon. “I’m talking about your friend being missing in action.”
“My dearest friend is missing the action, but he is not missing. He can’t be missing. I haven’t misplaced him. Nor has anyone else.”
“Aren’t you concerned?”
“I was concerned, but he’s on the mend now. Retsu has said as much. If you’re done playing nursemaid, you could fight, you know. Relieve one of those poor, helpless girls fighting that Haribel, why don’t you?”
Ise frowned. “You can barely walk in a straight line. Of course I’m not much of a nursemaid since that isn’t my job, but I can’t possibly do better than those well-trained shinigami you so foolishly dismiss as ‘poor, helpless girls.’ One of them is Rukia Kuchiki, by the way.”
“Is that so? Oh dear. My dearest friend would be most displeased to hear of me dismissing her so readily.”
“Indeed.”
“Regardless, while I do appreciate your concerns, and while I am not one to second guess Jyuushirou’s abilities… I cannot think of a good reason why an Espada would use garganta to assist us simply to have some time alone with him.”
“…You can’t think of one?”
Kyouraku blinked, inwardly thinking he would need to have to speak to this Stark privately once the other Captain returned. But for the most part he proceeded to cast admiring looks at his lieutenant and congratulate himself on doing such a remarkable job on corrupting her. “My, my. What a dirty mind you have, Nanao-chan.”
She scowled before taking her glasses off to clean them. Kindly, her Captain decided not to point out her blushing or how flawless the lenses had been up to that moment.
Instead, Kyouraku made an effort to fill the silence. “Just because that’s the first thing I would do if I mastered garganta doesn’t mean that everyone else would use it simply for the pleasures of ravishing a very attractive shinigami.”
“Hn. Well, yes, it would be a bit far-fetched. However, it could be one of the reasons for all we know.”
“For all we know, our beloved Captain is seducing him right now as he makes a speedy recovery.”
Ise put her glasses back on. “I hardly think-”
“I call him Casanova for a reason,” he interrupted, giving her a wink.
She stood there no doubt silently seething while he walked further, wincing a little at the blood he found not too far from where he’d located his hat. It was only to be expected, but he didn’t like it. He wanted to make it disappear somehow. To wave it out of existence with one hand the way Ukitake had deflected that arrancar girl’s cero with one flick of his wrist.
Kyouraku had never liked all of the blood that came with knowing Jyuushirou. He had grown accustomed and accepting of the illness his friend and lover suffered from seeing as there was no danger of losing Ukitake forever to said disease or a happy chance of locating a cure. He loved him a great deal. More than he loved most people certainly. And more honestly.
“Don’t think of me as heartless or purposefully flippant when it comes to this, Nanao-chan,” he murmured without looking up or over at his lieutenant. “I would like him to return. Of course I would. But not if that means him bleeding here again. Once was enough.”
“After what happened you think this Stark guy can be charged to look after his well being?”
Ironically Kyouraku imagined that having someone new looking after him might be a benefit for Ukitake. Someone who wasn’t tired or desensitized or used to it would be refreshing if nothing else.
“I choose to trust him.”
“All right. Assuming I believe that to be the case… Why would you trust him?”
“Maa, Nanao-chan. Lacking as I am in the ability to ravish our fair Captain at any given notice via garganta, I have no other choice.”
“And?”
“And to dwell on my suspicions or yours would only serve to upset you and me. That would hardly accomplish much.”
“At the moment.”
“At the moment,” he agreed, glancing up at the heavens where fighting continued. Vaizards who were once former captains were being joined by the Captains who had been so successfully left out of too much of the fight. The other Captains were recovering, having been left in the same shape as he was. If not worse.
“Besides,” Kyouraku continued, “I might need to fight again soon and so now is not the time. When and if that changes, I know I can count on you to-”
“Of course you can,” she snapped, hitting him lightly on the shoulder before marching past him. “Really. That much ought to go without saying.”
*
Characters: Jyuushiro Ukitake, Stark, Kenpachi Zaraki, Shunsui Kyouraku, Nanao Ise, etc.
Pairings: Zaraki/Ukitake, Kyouraku/Ukitake, Ukitake/Stark, and some others in the background.
Rating: R for language, some violence and slash in later sections.
Summary: Captain Ukitake finds himself focusing more on recovering in addition to possible truces and alliances than fights as he spends time alone with Stark. Kyouraku ultimately has his hands full waiting for his friend's safe return and assisting others while Zaraki forces his way back to Hueco Mundo from the fake Karakura Town battlefield.
However, as the Winter War seems to wind down, Aizen has a fair more sinister and less straightforward goal in mind. And it might just be that the differences between shinigami and
arrancar are not so great as appearances might suggest.
Author’s Note: For the sake of clarification, I have written this fic using primarily the last names of the characters because that seemed to flow better. I think it’s because they all have titles and ranks and use each other’s last names more often anyway. In addition, the title of this fic comes from a Muse song by the same name.
Thanks to kittydesade for pointing this challenge out, joyinthedance for looking it over, hedonisticated and ravens_rising for putting up with me and looking it over, scarlite for letting me bounce ideas off of her like ten seconds after the first time we chatted, and fic writers and/or Bleach fans on my f-list. <3 You're all awesome and supportive.
Disclaimer: I own no one. As far as spoilers go, this was written before the latest Stark chapters of Bleach, and so, it deviates greatly from the way the battle over the fake Karakura Town seems to be playing out in the manga.
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
*
Having suffered greatly from a wide variety of complaints and most regularly from his own recurring illness throughout the course of his life, Ukitake was accustomed to waking up in pain. He was not, however, accustomed to having his chest run through by an arrancar with very little in terms of intelligence. Then again, Aizen wasn’t interested in any intelligence outside or in addition to his own. Wonderweiss’ value came from his raw power.
Blinking his eyes several times, he decided the pain was more tolerable than he’d expected. In fact, it felt more like an ache than anything else. Surely he’d sustained considerable damage in spite of his age and strength. Weakly, he sought at the wound, confused to find his fingers resting on bandages when by all rights they should have been sticky from congealed blood. His outfit had changed too, but with sheets and blankets surrounding him, Ukitake couldn’t quite make the effort to see what it was. Not his haori and not his kimono. Not even his hakama. A yukata perhaps?
Above him was a white ceiling instead of a sky, and underneath him was a mattress. It wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t horrible.
How many hours or days had passed was hard to estimate. He didn’t know, but Ukitake certainly felt that the battle over the fake Karakura Town and the future of the Soul Society couldn’t have possibly ended already. Nor could the matter have been resolved in any neat fashion. Even if it was, Ukitake was fairly certain he wasn’t in Soul Society. For one thing, his zanpakutou was nowhere nearby. For another, the neat work on his bandages and the fact that the wound underneath them was healed over meant Unohana had looked after him herself.
Then there was vaguely familiar reiatsu of the man entering the room to consider. Stark.
“Good,” the Espada murmured before yawning. “You’re awake.”
Sitting up took some effort, but Ukitake managed it and he managed a few more blinks when he was handed a mug.
“Drink.”
“What’s-”
“Drink first. That Captain said you’d need it.”
“Poison?” The shingami asked, mostly because he felt obligated to be suspicious of the arranacar who had taken Shunsui out of the fight. He sincerely hoped his friend’s recovery had been more speedy than his own.
“Water. And it would be a little stupid to be suspicious of me now, wouldn’t it? I could have left you in a puddle of your own blood if I wanted you dead.”
Which left the question of what did Stark want, but there were several more pressing concerns.
“Then this is…”
“My home, yes. The Lieutenant who attempted to see to your needs insisted he wasn’t up for the job, and that the better healers could be found here.”
“Why did you get involved?”
Stark’s lips twisted in what looked like a thoughtful grimace. “Hn. That’s right. You slept through some key fights.”
“And?” He found himself scooting further back on the mattress as the Primera sat on the end of it. Stark looked more amused by the action than anything else.
“Let’s keep it simple. Let’s say I prefer the way your people treat your allies.”
“So you’re seeking to became one?”
“I’m in the process of doing so, I should think. First I brought you here then I brought several Captains there. And the rest of the motley crew stranded here. To that effect, that Inoue girl insisted I make sure you get better.”
Ukitake’s eyes widened and he found himself drinking a few more sips. There was no reason for this Espada to lie about such things. He didn’t seem to be the type although certainly other arrancars would have derived pleasure from such manipulations.
His help must have been more than a little unexpected, and yet it must have come as something of a blessing. On one hand, Soul Society could hardly afford to turn away help, but on the other it would not last for much longer if its leaders did not put more stock on believing what could be gleaned from first experiences and appearances. In that respect, Ukitake felt that Stark wasn’t the worst arrancar he could be stuck with or forced to rely upon. Of all the warriors in Aizen’s sizable army, Stark had seemed the most uninterested in fighting and the only one who showed any reluctance in killing.
And even Yama-ji would have to overlook a great deal for someone willing to use Gargantua for the purpose of aiding Soul Society against Sousuke Aizen.
Stark looked both amused and pleased by the shinigami’s startled look. “I’m tempted to say she told me to give you a hug for her just to see your reaction to that. I hope you don’t faint when I say some people called Vaizards showed up.”
Ukitake looked surprised before rolling his eyes. “Is that even true?”
“It is. I’m sure you’ll see them soon.”
Ever since the arrival of Ichigo Kurosaki, the battles the shinigami engaged in seemed to grow more and more numerous and convoluted. And processing the rest of that information would have to wait, because Ukitake had one more question, and the more he knew about the others currently engaged in battle, the more he needed to be given an answer. “What of Shunsui Kyouraku? The shinigami you-”
Looking horribly inconvenienced and put out, Stark sighed wearily as if he’d had to explain himself several times already. In all likelihood, he must have had to so to be given so much trust and faith by shinigami who were nearly out of such luxuries.
“I did not enjoy that. Such tactics are necessary and yet regrettable. But then such practices are fairly common place in wars and on battle grounds, as you well know.”
“I wasn’t placing blame. I just need to know…” He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath and continuing. “I want to know his current condition. If you’re my ally, you should tell me.”
Stark reached a hand out and patted Ukitake’s. “I see I’ve alarmed you, but you’ll be glad to know such concerns are unwarranted. Rest assured that I remember him very well beyond the injuries he sustained. Injuries he has begun to recover from, and swiftly too.”
Ukitake nodded, not trusting himself to say anything for a few seconds. Then he asked:
“Does this bring me up to the present?”
“Just about.”
“You didn’t need to help me to be considered an ally.”
“Yeah? I don’t know about that. Lilinette said she wasn’t going to think well of me for leaving you where you were.”
Ukitake felt his mouth turn up into a small smile. She probably wanted to be the one to finish off herself someday, and in that case, the shinigami was likely to live for a very, very long time if not indefinitely.
But returning his focus to his current conversation, the good-natured Captain found that he could only frown in consternation. “Touching as that is, more important things were… are happening. I could have been healed there.”
Stark shrugged his shoulders before looking back over at Ukitake. “Maybe. Or maybe I personally didn’t think it was right to leave you there just because everyone else was okay with it.”
“Why?”
Stretching languidly and without any preamble whatsoever, Stark laid back on the bed. He did so while still leaving a considerable distance between them, but he didn’t seem troubled by the notion of sharing a bed with someone he’d been fighting earlier that day. “Look, if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather talk when you’re more up to the challenge.”
“I can… It’s not important that you let me recover here.”
“I’m supposed to make you rest a bit more than bring you on through. They might need you again, but odds are they might not. You’ve helped out already.”
Sighing heavily, he sipped at the drink and leaned forward gingerly letting his hair fall over his face as he accepted this as fact. Ukitake knew from experience that battles were waged and won well enough by others while he stayed in bed. This, of course, stung mightily, but a shinigami could learn to live with slightly battered pride so long as his honor was not questioned or besmirched. A shinigami, he knew, could live through more things than a shinigami often wished to. And Ukitake didn’t have to like it for it to make sense.
A gloved hand smoothed back some of his hair, and Ukitake glanced down at Stark who had apparently wormed his way further up the bed while the Captain had allowed himself to teeter on the brink of wallowing in self-pity.
“Hey. No one could think less of you from needing some time to recover from the chest wound you got.”
Having the hand of an Espada so far in his personal space ought to have upset him, but Ukitake found that he might not have minded so much if the hand hadn’t been covered by cloth. Whether this was because he’d once again come close to a final death or because Stark bore such a strange resemblance to Shunsui was hard to say.
“You’re not like me,” the arrancar added.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m no good at fighting for long stretches of time,” Stark pointed out with a thin smirk “I’m useless after awhile if I don’t take a nap.”
Ukitake snorted. “Is that so?”
“Very much so. And the exact opposite’s true for Lilinette.”
“That must be frustrating.”
“Nah, more like annoying and inconvenient.”
“Hm.”
Smirking again in a lazy feline fashion, Stark moved further up the bed until he was propping an elbow on one of the pillows next to Ukitake. “Anyway, hear me out. Maybe this whole rest thing will take longer than you’d like, but I for one could use it.”
Laughing, the Captain shook his head. “Are you suggesting that in order to make myself feel better, I should blame the extended delay on you instead of my body? I don’t know about that.”
“I don’t mind much. So. Sound fair to you, shinigami?”
“Jyuushirou.”
“Jyuushirou,” Stark repeated slowly in a way that would have made Ukitake blush if he’d been a few centuries younger. Instead he simply smiled. “I like that. And for the record I think your body’s just fine.”
“One would think that a closer examination would be in order for someone to reach that conclusion.”
Stark chuckled and rolled onto his side facing away from him. If he’d known him better or for longer, the Captain would have been half-tempted to pull on his shoulder until he rolled in the opposite direction. “That’s because you think I just dumped you on that one Captain and left while she took care of you. What a naïve ex-enemy you are, shinigami.”
“Jyuushirou.”
At that, the Espada did move over until they were facing one another. “Believe me, Jyuushirou. The last thing I plan on doing is forgetting your name.”
*
Ise kept alternating between looking after him, and lecturing him as he walked around. Kyouraku had never been the type to sit still for long unlike Jyuushirou who could sit still for hours. Jyuushirou… Well, if he possessed any common sense at all, he was hopefully sitting very still and resting.
“With all due respect, I told you all that chasing tail was going to come back and haunt you in the end. Maybe if you’d focused more on him, he wouldn’t be in Hueco Mundo.” Ah. Fifteen minutes of pampering seemed to be up once again.
Truth be told, the Eighth Division Captain couldn’t even bring himself to mind. If asked, he would have gestured all around them. He would have insisted that too much fighting was going on, and too many old familiar faces were showing up for him to pay much attention to the established routine between them. Just as Kyouraku would have blamed all of the tightness in his chest on the cero wounds he’d suffered.
“Maa, Nanao-chan,” he muttered, stopping only when he found his kimono. It wasn’t fit to wear thanks to his wounds and more than likely Ukitake’s as well, but unlike his friend, the garment was immediately retrievable. His straw hat on the other hand… Where on earth had that wandered off to?
“…Are you even listening to me?”
“No.” Kyouraku delighted in tormenting her with honesty. “I’ve lost track. Are you talking about Lisa or Jyuushirou now?”
“We ought to be discussing Captain Ukitake.” Ise had yet to express her thoughts on seeing former lieutenant Yadomaru. If decades of experience were to be trusted, she was unlikely to be forthcoming with said sentiments any time soon. “I’m talking about your friend being missing in action.”
“My dearest friend is missing the action, but he is not missing. He can’t be missing. I haven’t misplaced him. Nor has anyone else.”
“Aren’t you concerned?”
“I was concerned, but he’s on the mend now. Retsu has said as much. If you’re done playing nursemaid, you could fight, you know. Relieve one of those poor, helpless girls fighting that Haribel, why don’t you?”
Ise frowned. “You can barely walk in a straight line. Of course I’m not much of a nursemaid since that isn’t my job, but I can’t possibly do better than those well-trained shinigami you so foolishly dismiss as ‘poor, helpless girls.’ One of them is Rukia Kuchiki, by the way.”
“Is that so? Oh dear. My dearest friend would be most displeased to hear of me dismissing her so readily.”
“Indeed.”
“Regardless, while I do appreciate your concerns, and while I am not one to second guess Jyuushirou’s abilities… I cannot think of a good reason why an Espada would use garganta to assist us simply to have some time alone with him.”
“…You can’t think of one?”
Kyouraku blinked, inwardly thinking he would need to have to speak to this Stark privately once the other Captain returned. But for the most part he proceeded to cast admiring looks at his lieutenant and congratulate himself on doing such a remarkable job on corrupting her. “My, my. What a dirty mind you have, Nanao-chan.”
She scowled before taking her glasses off to clean them. Kindly, her Captain decided not to point out her blushing or how flawless the lenses had been up to that moment.
Instead, Kyouraku made an effort to fill the silence. “Just because that’s the first thing I would do if I mastered garganta doesn’t mean that everyone else would use it simply for the pleasures of ravishing a very attractive shinigami.”
“Hn. Well, yes, it would be a bit far-fetched. However, it could be one of the reasons for all we know.”
“For all we know, our beloved Captain is seducing him right now as he makes a speedy recovery.”
Ise put her glasses back on. “I hardly think-”
“I call him Casanova for a reason,” he interrupted, giving her a wink.
She stood there no doubt silently seething while he walked further, wincing a little at the blood he found not too far from where he’d located his hat. It was only to be expected, but he didn’t like it. He wanted to make it disappear somehow. To wave it out of existence with one hand the way Ukitake had deflected that arrancar girl’s cero with one flick of his wrist.
Kyouraku had never liked all of the blood that came with knowing Jyuushirou. He had grown accustomed and accepting of the illness his friend and lover suffered from seeing as there was no danger of losing Ukitake forever to said disease or a happy chance of locating a cure. He loved him a great deal. More than he loved most people certainly. And more honestly.
“Don’t think of me as heartless or purposefully flippant when it comes to this, Nanao-chan,” he murmured without looking up or over at his lieutenant. “I would like him to return. Of course I would. But not if that means him bleeding here again. Once was enough.”
“After what happened you think this Stark guy can be charged to look after his well being?”
Ironically Kyouraku imagined that having someone new looking after him might be a benefit for Ukitake. Someone who wasn’t tired or desensitized or used to it would be refreshing if nothing else.
“I choose to trust him.”
“All right. Assuming I believe that to be the case… Why would you trust him?”
“Maa, Nanao-chan. Lacking as I am in the ability to ravish our fair Captain at any given notice via garganta, I have no other choice.”
“And?”
“And to dwell on my suspicions or yours would only serve to upset you and me. That would hardly accomplish much.”
“At the moment.”
“At the moment,” he agreed, glancing up at the heavens where fighting continued. Vaizards who were once former captains were being joined by the Captains who had been so successfully left out of too much of the fight. The other Captains were recovering, having been left in the same shape as he was. If not worse.
“Besides,” Kyouraku continued, “I might need to fight again soon and so now is not the time. When and if that changes, I know I can count on you to-”
“Of course you can,” she snapped, hitting him lightly on the shoulder before marching past him. “Really. That much ought to go without saying.”
*