Undisclosed Desires (3/7)
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.
Author’s Note, etc.: See Part One.
Part One
Part Two
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
*
Stark was the first person to roll into view. Next was Grimmjow who didn’t seem to want to be too close to anyone if his grimace was anything to go by. Over to the left of both arrancar and sitting on a large boulder, was Third Seat Ikkaku who looked like he’d seen better days. His gaze kept lighting on one person after another although his eyes seemed to gravitate more towards Yachiru than anything else. The girls -- Whether they were children or not was difficult to ascertain, but Ukitake was content to think of both Yachiru and Lilinette as little girls -- were squabbling over something, and some small bodies seemed to litter the landscape. Animals or small hollows. It was hard to say.
And they were, of course, not what drew his attention. The Captain of the Thirteenth Division was more interested in both of the arrancar standing there. They looked bored with each other, the scene playing out before them, and everything else as well.
Just why Grimmjow was standing next to another albeit higher-ranking Espada was an enigma. Loyalty or a sense of camaraderie was not very likely to be a motivating factor. Which brought many other questions to mind such as what was motivating Stark and what sort of answer to that question would satisfy Ukitake or the rest of Soul Society?
Ukitake was as capable as any other shinigami when it came to assessing and recognizing his own abilities and limits. He was a skilled fighter. He was a good gardener. He was fair and open-minded, but practical and focused on honor. He had heard from others or deduced via other means that he was considered to be attractive and far more so than most of the other Captains. But he would have scarcely expected many of those qualities he possessed to be a sufficient reason to abandon what many would have considered to a relatively important cause.
And if it was, what did that say about Stark or his priorities?
Was the Primera concerned about what might become of him or any other surviving Espada? Was he indifferent instead or merely cautious enough to maintain the sort of pessimistic fatalism that working with Aizen must have required? Or, like so many of his brother- and sister-creatures, was Stark simply propelled forward by baser instincts?
Ukitake sighed heavily, which caused the other Captain to stop walking. “Can you go back first?” he asked, deciding that the only way to probably get anywhere was to make Stark talk to him without an audience. The first time, at least.
Zaraki looked over at him skeptically. “And this doesn’t waste my time or yours because…?”
“Because I want to talk to him. Alone.”
“That girl won’t go without him.”
“I know that. She is him.”
“The fuck?”
“Technically. It’s complicated.”
Zaraki waved a hand. He wasn’t big on dealing with anything that wasn’t straightforward in some way or directly related to the two of them. The latter was something he’d had to compromise on years ago, and he still didn’t like it all that much. “Spare me the details.”
“I will.”
“But you want me to leave.”
Smiling warmly, Ukitake patted Zaraki’s arm. “As you so shrewdly observed, I’m wasting enough of my own time.”
“I told you about that, didn’t I?”
The patting turned into gentle petting as Ukitake leaned up and kissed his cheek. There was a small choking sound coming from the direction of Ikkaku’s boulder. “Hm? You told me about how you like to waste my time?”
Zaraki ground his sharp teeth, putting his arms on Ukitake’s shoulder and almost shoving him before glancing over at Stark. Then he decided against it, which was somewhat disappointing. “About being mushy around my men.”
“Men? Only two people from your Division are here, and only one of them is male.”
“Whatever.”
Chuckling as he considered Ikkaku’s confused face, Ukitake wrapped his arms around the taller Captain’s neck and nuzzled at Zaraki’s shoulder. “Will you leave then?”
“Shit, don’t do that!”
Releasing his gentle grip, the older Captain smirked. “You know you love it.”
“I know it’s embarrassing as fuck!”
“So leave.”
“Yeah, but if I have to come back, I’m showing that Stark guy just how busy you already are when it comes to sex.”
“And relationships,” Ukitake sternly added. “Give me a kiss and then make yourself scarce, ne?”
“Yeah, yeah. Bastard,” Zaraki murmured, but his tone was amused and appreciative. They kissed and then he did shove Ukitake slightly as he stalked past him. “Ikkaku, get your lazy ass over here.”
Thrilled by the return to normalcy, the Third Seat offered up the sloppiest of salutes as he came jogging over to them. “Right. Sorry, Captain.”
“Shut up,” Zaraki growled, shoving Ikkaku forward. “Yachiru, get over here. Say goodbye. We’re going back.”
A blurry pink thing zoomed over to Ukitake at an ever-increasing speed, but he was able to snatch Yachiru up before she could throw herself at him, and therefore, directly at his injuries. She had a gift for finding them, and at the moment he wasn’t sure he was quite up for her accidentally clutching or kicking at his bandages.
Snuggling up to him happily, she grinned up and looked expectant. “Candy later?”
“Later,” he agreed.
“You better not die before then,” she cautioned before squirming and holding her little hands out to Zaraki. “Promise.”
“I promise I won’t die before you get enough candy to satisfy you.”
“That’s never,” she said solemnly. “So get better.”
He nodded in similar fashion, as charmed by her as ever. “Of course.”
She wiggled her fingers until Zaraki scooped her up. She climbed over him until she got to his back, and then she waved from her spot on his shoulder. “Bye then! Ken-chan will miss you.”
Ken-chan, on the hand, rolled his eyes and smacked Ikkaku upside the head as he stalked forward. “Let’s get this freak show on the road, for fuck’s sake…”
Grimmjow and Stark, who had only recently been joined by a sulky Lilinette, warily watched the Captain approach them, but eventually they relaxed their stances and nodded a bit. They exchanged a few calm words before Stark ambled over to Ukitake.
Lilinette kicked at the sand and Stark’s heels as he passed her. She shouted something, but the wind muffled it. The remaining shinigami imagined he wasn’t meant to hear it anyway.
Even after the others left, Lilinette didn’t follow him over.
“Is everything all right?”
“We fight a lot,” Stark offered up as explanation.
“But everything is…”
“It’s fine. That other Captain said you had to tell me something important.”
Ukitake sighed. “No, it’s… Well, maybe it is important, but it’s not something I need to tell you.”
“I know you’re seeing that other one. And your friend back on the other side.”
“Sort of obvious, huh?”
Stark nodded, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Why are you helping us?”
The Espada’s brow furrowed, and Ukitake found that he liked Stark having some reaction outside of weary acceptance or indifference. “We’ve discussed this. I thought you understood.”
“I do to some degree, but why help me? Why make this your problem?”
“Where else are we going to go?” Stark was including Lilinette in this whether she wanted to be or not. The Captain liked that too.
“That’s a very good question.”
“Will you be this suspicious of the Vaizards?”
“To be honest, I don’t know what we’ll do.”
“I don’t care about the rest of them,” Stark grumbled. “I want to know what you’ll do.”
“I don’t… It’s hard to say.”
“Pretend it’s easy.”
“It’s not easy,” Ukitake began, holding up a hand to prevent himself from being interrupted or badgered further. “And yet I’m tired of suspecting everyone of something and realizing I’m wrong about them.”
“Sometimes you’re not.”
“That’s true, which is why…” Ukitake took a deep breath. “I can’t afford to trust Aizen. No one I’m allied with can. So I don’t know how to trust you. You attacked us.”
“I was provoked.”
“You’re provoking me right now.”
“And you’re taking it rather well,” Stark complimented.
Ukitake’s lips curved into a rueful smile.
Stark yawned and looked away. “There’s such a big picture for you guys. Aizen too. He’s always plotting and always thinking. He’s always picking at things. He’s so focused on this big, big world he wants to make.”
“And for you?”
“I just want to take some naps without these fights interrupting them.”
“Which you can do with us?”
“No. With you… I could go places if I worked with you. If you… If they allow me to live.”
Ukitake frowned, wondering why Stark would want to take such a big gamble. For his own sake? For Lilinette’s? But then perhaps it shouldn’t have been so surprising that even hollows wouldn’t want to live in a world of Aizen’s making. This Hueco Mundo had been here long before Aizen. The world felt old even if Stark, Grimmjow, and the other Espada felt brand-new.
“We can’t go anywhere,” Stark continued. “Unless he lets us. Even before he was here, we were limited. This is our world. We don’t leave.”
“But you’ve moved up in terms of-”
Stark shrugged, still looking away. “We can advance in rank. We can become the most important thing here, but traveling? Having long-term goals? Having any of the things you people have all the time… That doesn’t work out here.”
“Why?”
“We die.”
“We die-”
“Not as quickly. Not the way we do.”
“What way is that?”
“Alone.”
Ukitake found himself thinking of Kaien. His Lieutenant hadn’t died alone but whenever he thought of death, he thought about that rainy, bloody moment in time. He thought about how the only fact relating to the loss that comforted him was that Kaien hadn’t been alone.
“So you are trying to make me a long-term goal?” he quietly asked.
Stark snorted. “No. You’d be a nice perk though. I think you’re strong and flawed. I like that.”
“…I see.”
Quietly, Stark added: “I’d like to have someone who would miss me if I died. I don’t want to be like the others.”
“Surely the rest of you-”
The Espada’s grey eyes narrowed. “I couldn’t fucking care less about them. I wish I did some times, but it’s not in me.”
“But you care about me?”
“Not exactly,” the Espada admitted, and his honesty came as both a relief and a sharp disappointment. “I could. I want to. Because you’re different. You’re not stuck.”
“I don’t know what Aizen has told you about shinigami, Stark, but we’re hardly a cure to what ails you. We’re pretty set in our ways too.”
“But you move forward. Not in circles.”
“So you helped me to help yourself,” Ukitake decided, not minding that this was the case. It was a motivation that wasn’t suspicious; reason that made sense and seemed logical. “You think I’m somehow your ticket out of here?”
“I think you could help me. I think the ones that matter listen to you.”
Ukitake looked down, wishing he wasn’t being trusted with something like this. Stark had little to lose, but he still had something to lose. Why did everything seem so difficult all of a sudden? Why couldn’t their enemies be normal hollows with little in terms of intelligence and no features resembling that of a shinigami or a human?
“I… I’ll see what I can do.”
“And I could give you something you want just like you can give me something I want.”
Ukitake looked up sharply and frowned. “Is that what you- You think- I would never ask that of anyone.”
Stark blinked. “It’s… No, I mean… We can help your people. Lilinette and I.”
The shinigami’s eyes narrowed and the Espada looked confused but also intrigued. “That better be what you meant. I really will see what I can do.”
“For me and for-”
“Of course. For Lilinette too,” Ukitake insisted.
“Thank you,” Stark managed, looking uncertain. He hesitated than reached a hand out, lightly snatching at white locks and watching them fall through his gloved fingers. “I can’t say I’m sorry to ask this of you, but I am thankful.”
“You’re welcome. It will take time, but I think your actions… Most of your actions will help you and her in terms of being accepted by us. Assuming you intend to continue with these current actions of non-violence and assistance.”
Stark chuckled briefly but nodded, playing with more strands of hair. Ukitake allowed it, but he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to or not. What Stark wanted from him seemed all too clear and yet too opaque for him to figure out. “And if I’m good can…Never mind.”
Ukitake blinked as Stark’s hand moved away again. “Hn?”
“I want to do things with you,” the arrancar admitted as his fingers slowly returned to Ukitake’s hair. “Just you. Not because I owe you anything, but because of what I said earlier. I do think I could care for you.”
“You don’t have to be good for that.” Stark smirked and Ukitake shook his head. “But don’t… Just because I’m seeing more than one person… We’d have to see how it goes, all right?”
The Captain was careful not to jump when Stark leaned in. He chastely kissed his cheek before whispering in his ear: “I don’t mind sharing you if I can have you.”
It felt as if the world had suddenly become very, very small. There was just the two of them and the shifting sand with a black and white landscape hovering around them. Closing in on them the longer they stood there.
It was wrong being in a world altered and shaped by Aizen. But here was this sad, strange desert hollow wrapping both arms around him, and it was too new even if it felt right. Hollows were always hungry, and having that strange intent focused on him in a way that had very little to do with a fight went against centuries of experience.
Even in this quiet moment, the Primera had an impressive reiatsu that seemed capable of engulfing the things around him. When it found Ukitake’s reiatsu to be up to the challenge, it worked on surrounding it. Cradling it in a deceptively soothing way. Coaxing his reiatsu into joining, and if not joining, then surrendering unconditionally. Sand and salt water mixing together forming quicksand. It proved to be too much, and he found that he was suddenly desperate for some room of his own.
“That will take time too,” Ukitake told him before almost stumbling away.
“How much time?”
“A lot of time and patience,” the shinigami decided. “You’ll have to work for it. It’s not… These things can’t be rushed or forced, Stark. Feelings are not instant.”
“You’re angry.”
“No, I’m…” He sighed, after yawning. “Don’t read anything into this. I’m just tired.”
Stark considered this in stony silence before nodding sympathetically. “No one ever appreciates the value of naps until battle fatigue sets in.”
Managing a sad smile, Ukitake looked away. “Even so, you will give me time?”
“What you’re asking for… How can I deny you time if that is all you require in order to try and accept me? It is only sensible.”
“But?”
Stark offered up a wistful smile. “But I wish you weren’t so sensible.”
“Do you wish I’d stay here with you?”
Stark’s gloved hands clenched into fists and he stared up at the sky above them. “No, but I do wish I could stay here.”
“He’s taken this place away from you,” Ukitake stated sadly.
There was so little he understood about Stark. How could the Espada possibly think he’d be able to care for someone so foreign to what he knew? How could any hollow be in such an unbearable position that they would agree to accept judgment from shinigami to escape his own home?
One of the Espada’s hands opened and the palm came to rest on his shoulder. “Do you feel bad for me?”
“Yes, I do. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
First he’d rejected the curious exploration of the arrancar’s reiatsu. It had been aggressive, but it hadn’t been meant to spook him the way it had or else he wouldn’t have been able to break off contact. Then there was the fact that Ukitake’s manner of rejecting hadn’t been very kind or gentle. If anything it had been just as forceful.
To make matters worse, now the shinigami was busy pitying him while Stark was striving to be kind. The notion of anyone having to settle for pity in the hopes of kindling any other kind emotions in another was depressing. The notion of being that other person lacking in that sort of emotion was difficult to bear.
“I need to talk to Lilinette and then we can go.”
“All right,” he replied, staring down at the sand.
“I shouldn’t have said anything,” Stark murmured without moving away.
“I asked you to.”
“I didn’t mind. Please believe that. I don’t blame you, and I’ll try not to expect anything from you.”
Ukitake nodded woodenly as Stark kissed his cheek.
“You shouldn’t be under the misconception that you’re now obligated to feel anything, Jyuushirou.”
Ukitake looked up and nodded again.
Stark seemed to be debating something before he spoke. “I can see that you are anyway. But what you’re feeling… It’s not just pity. I know you think it is, but it’s more than that.”
Ukitake found himself reaching up to squeeze Stark’s hand, and biting his lip to keep from apologizing again once the Espada finally pulled away.
*
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.
Author’s Note, etc.: See Part One.
Part One
Part Two
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
*
Stark was the first person to roll into view. Next was Grimmjow who didn’t seem to want to be too close to anyone if his grimace was anything to go by. Over to the left of both arrancar and sitting on a large boulder, was Third Seat Ikkaku who looked like he’d seen better days. His gaze kept lighting on one person after another although his eyes seemed to gravitate more towards Yachiru than anything else. The girls -- Whether they were children or not was difficult to ascertain, but Ukitake was content to think of both Yachiru and Lilinette as little girls -- were squabbling over something, and some small bodies seemed to litter the landscape. Animals or small hollows. It was hard to say.
And they were, of course, not what drew his attention. The Captain of the Thirteenth Division was more interested in both of the arrancar standing there. They looked bored with each other, the scene playing out before them, and everything else as well.
Just why Grimmjow was standing next to another albeit higher-ranking Espada was an enigma. Loyalty or a sense of camaraderie was not very likely to be a motivating factor. Which brought many other questions to mind such as what was motivating Stark and what sort of answer to that question would satisfy Ukitake or the rest of Soul Society?
Ukitake was as capable as any other shinigami when it came to assessing and recognizing his own abilities and limits. He was a skilled fighter. He was a good gardener. He was fair and open-minded, but practical and focused on honor. He had heard from others or deduced via other means that he was considered to be attractive and far more so than most of the other Captains. But he would have scarcely expected many of those qualities he possessed to be a sufficient reason to abandon what many would have considered to a relatively important cause.
And if it was, what did that say about Stark or his priorities?
Was the Primera concerned about what might become of him or any other surviving Espada? Was he indifferent instead or merely cautious enough to maintain the sort of pessimistic fatalism that working with Aizen must have required? Or, like so many of his brother- and sister-creatures, was Stark simply propelled forward by baser instincts?
Ukitake sighed heavily, which caused the other Captain to stop walking. “Can you go back first?” he asked, deciding that the only way to probably get anywhere was to make Stark talk to him without an audience. The first time, at least.
Zaraki looked over at him skeptically. “And this doesn’t waste my time or yours because…?”
“Because I want to talk to him. Alone.”
“That girl won’t go without him.”
“I know that. She is him.”
“The fuck?”
“Technically. It’s complicated.”
Zaraki waved a hand. He wasn’t big on dealing with anything that wasn’t straightforward in some way or directly related to the two of them. The latter was something he’d had to compromise on years ago, and he still didn’t like it all that much. “Spare me the details.”
“I will.”
“But you want me to leave.”
Smiling warmly, Ukitake patted Zaraki’s arm. “As you so shrewdly observed, I’m wasting enough of my own time.”
“I told you about that, didn’t I?”
The patting turned into gentle petting as Ukitake leaned up and kissed his cheek. There was a small choking sound coming from the direction of Ikkaku’s boulder. “Hm? You told me about how you like to waste my time?”
Zaraki ground his sharp teeth, putting his arms on Ukitake’s shoulder and almost shoving him before glancing over at Stark. Then he decided against it, which was somewhat disappointing. “About being mushy around my men.”
“Men? Only two people from your Division are here, and only one of them is male.”
“Whatever.”
Chuckling as he considered Ikkaku’s confused face, Ukitake wrapped his arms around the taller Captain’s neck and nuzzled at Zaraki’s shoulder. “Will you leave then?”
“Shit, don’t do that!”
Releasing his gentle grip, the older Captain smirked. “You know you love it.”
“I know it’s embarrassing as fuck!”
“So leave.”
“Yeah, but if I have to come back, I’m showing that Stark guy just how busy you already are when it comes to sex.”
“And relationships,” Ukitake sternly added. “Give me a kiss and then make yourself scarce, ne?”
“Yeah, yeah. Bastard,” Zaraki murmured, but his tone was amused and appreciative. They kissed and then he did shove Ukitake slightly as he stalked past him. “Ikkaku, get your lazy ass over here.”
Thrilled by the return to normalcy, the Third Seat offered up the sloppiest of salutes as he came jogging over to them. “Right. Sorry, Captain.”
“Shut up,” Zaraki growled, shoving Ikkaku forward. “Yachiru, get over here. Say goodbye. We’re going back.”
A blurry pink thing zoomed over to Ukitake at an ever-increasing speed, but he was able to snatch Yachiru up before she could throw herself at him, and therefore, directly at his injuries. She had a gift for finding them, and at the moment he wasn’t sure he was quite up for her accidentally clutching or kicking at his bandages.
Snuggling up to him happily, she grinned up and looked expectant. “Candy later?”
“Later,” he agreed.
“You better not die before then,” she cautioned before squirming and holding her little hands out to Zaraki. “Promise.”
“I promise I won’t die before you get enough candy to satisfy you.”
“That’s never,” she said solemnly. “So get better.”
He nodded in similar fashion, as charmed by her as ever. “Of course.”
She wiggled her fingers until Zaraki scooped her up. She climbed over him until she got to his back, and then she waved from her spot on his shoulder. “Bye then! Ken-chan will miss you.”
Ken-chan, on the hand, rolled his eyes and smacked Ikkaku upside the head as he stalked forward. “Let’s get this freak show on the road, for fuck’s sake…”
Grimmjow and Stark, who had only recently been joined by a sulky Lilinette, warily watched the Captain approach them, but eventually they relaxed their stances and nodded a bit. They exchanged a few calm words before Stark ambled over to Ukitake.
Lilinette kicked at the sand and Stark’s heels as he passed her. She shouted something, but the wind muffled it. The remaining shinigami imagined he wasn’t meant to hear it anyway.
Even after the others left, Lilinette didn’t follow him over.
“Is everything all right?”
“We fight a lot,” Stark offered up as explanation.
“But everything is…”
“It’s fine. That other Captain said you had to tell me something important.”
Ukitake sighed. “No, it’s… Well, maybe it is important, but it’s not something I need to tell you.”
“I know you’re seeing that other one. And your friend back on the other side.”
“Sort of obvious, huh?”
Stark nodded, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Why are you helping us?”
The Espada’s brow furrowed, and Ukitake found that he liked Stark having some reaction outside of weary acceptance or indifference. “We’ve discussed this. I thought you understood.”
“I do to some degree, but why help me? Why make this your problem?”
“Where else are we going to go?” Stark was including Lilinette in this whether she wanted to be or not. The Captain liked that too.
“That’s a very good question.”
“Will you be this suspicious of the Vaizards?”
“To be honest, I don’t know what we’ll do.”
“I don’t care about the rest of them,” Stark grumbled. “I want to know what you’ll do.”
“I don’t… It’s hard to say.”
“Pretend it’s easy.”
“It’s not easy,” Ukitake began, holding up a hand to prevent himself from being interrupted or badgered further. “And yet I’m tired of suspecting everyone of something and realizing I’m wrong about them.”
“Sometimes you’re not.”
“That’s true, which is why…” Ukitake took a deep breath. “I can’t afford to trust Aizen. No one I’m allied with can. So I don’t know how to trust you. You attacked us.”
“I was provoked.”
“You’re provoking me right now.”
“And you’re taking it rather well,” Stark complimented.
Ukitake’s lips curved into a rueful smile.
Stark yawned and looked away. “There’s such a big picture for you guys. Aizen too. He’s always plotting and always thinking. He’s always picking at things. He’s so focused on this big, big world he wants to make.”
“And for you?”
“I just want to take some naps without these fights interrupting them.”
“Which you can do with us?”
“No. With you… I could go places if I worked with you. If you… If they allow me to live.”
Ukitake frowned, wondering why Stark would want to take such a big gamble. For his own sake? For Lilinette’s? But then perhaps it shouldn’t have been so surprising that even hollows wouldn’t want to live in a world of Aizen’s making. This Hueco Mundo had been here long before Aizen. The world felt old even if Stark, Grimmjow, and the other Espada felt brand-new.
“We can’t go anywhere,” Stark continued. “Unless he lets us. Even before he was here, we were limited. This is our world. We don’t leave.”
“But you’ve moved up in terms of-”
Stark shrugged, still looking away. “We can advance in rank. We can become the most important thing here, but traveling? Having long-term goals? Having any of the things you people have all the time… That doesn’t work out here.”
“Why?”
“We die.”
“We die-”
“Not as quickly. Not the way we do.”
“What way is that?”
“Alone.”
Ukitake found himself thinking of Kaien. His Lieutenant hadn’t died alone but whenever he thought of death, he thought about that rainy, bloody moment in time. He thought about how the only fact relating to the loss that comforted him was that Kaien hadn’t been alone.
“So you are trying to make me a long-term goal?” he quietly asked.
Stark snorted. “No. You’d be a nice perk though. I think you’re strong and flawed. I like that.”
“…I see.”
Quietly, Stark added: “I’d like to have someone who would miss me if I died. I don’t want to be like the others.”
“Surely the rest of you-”
The Espada’s grey eyes narrowed. “I couldn’t fucking care less about them. I wish I did some times, but it’s not in me.”
“But you care about me?”
“Not exactly,” the Espada admitted, and his honesty came as both a relief and a sharp disappointment. “I could. I want to. Because you’re different. You’re not stuck.”
“I don’t know what Aizen has told you about shinigami, Stark, but we’re hardly a cure to what ails you. We’re pretty set in our ways too.”
“But you move forward. Not in circles.”
“So you helped me to help yourself,” Ukitake decided, not minding that this was the case. It was a motivation that wasn’t suspicious; reason that made sense and seemed logical. “You think I’m somehow your ticket out of here?”
“I think you could help me. I think the ones that matter listen to you.”
Ukitake looked down, wishing he wasn’t being trusted with something like this. Stark had little to lose, but he still had something to lose. Why did everything seem so difficult all of a sudden? Why couldn’t their enemies be normal hollows with little in terms of intelligence and no features resembling that of a shinigami or a human?
“I… I’ll see what I can do.”
“And I could give you something you want just like you can give me something I want.”
Ukitake looked up sharply and frowned. “Is that what you- You think- I would never ask that of anyone.”
Stark blinked. “It’s… No, I mean… We can help your people. Lilinette and I.”
The shinigami’s eyes narrowed and the Espada looked confused but also intrigued. “That better be what you meant. I really will see what I can do.”
“For me and for-”
“Of course. For Lilinette too,” Ukitake insisted.
“Thank you,” Stark managed, looking uncertain. He hesitated than reached a hand out, lightly snatching at white locks and watching them fall through his gloved fingers. “I can’t say I’m sorry to ask this of you, but I am thankful.”
“You’re welcome. It will take time, but I think your actions… Most of your actions will help you and her in terms of being accepted by us. Assuming you intend to continue with these current actions of non-violence and assistance.”
Stark chuckled briefly but nodded, playing with more strands of hair. Ukitake allowed it, but he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to or not. What Stark wanted from him seemed all too clear and yet too opaque for him to figure out. “And if I’m good can…Never mind.”
Ukitake blinked as Stark’s hand moved away again. “Hn?”
“I want to do things with you,” the arrancar admitted as his fingers slowly returned to Ukitake’s hair. “Just you. Not because I owe you anything, but because of what I said earlier. I do think I could care for you.”
“You don’t have to be good for that.” Stark smirked and Ukitake shook his head. “But don’t… Just because I’m seeing more than one person… We’d have to see how it goes, all right?”
The Captain was careful not to jump when Stark leaned in. He chastely kissed his cheek before whispering in his ear: “I don’t mind sharing you if I can have you.”
It felt as if the world had suddenly become very, very small. There was just the two of them and the shifting sand with a black and white landscape hovering around them. Closing in on them the longer they stood there.
It was wrong being in a world altered and shaped by Aizen. But here was this sad, strange desert hollow wrapping both arms around him, and it was too new even if it felt right. Hollows were always hungry, and having that strange intent focused on him in a way that had very little to do with a fight went against centuries of experience.
Even in this quiet moment, the Primera had an impressive reiatsu that seemed capable of engulfing the things around him. When it found Ukitake’s reiatsu to be up to the challenge, it worked on surrounding it. Cradling it in a deceptively soothing way. Coaxing his reiatsu into joining, and if not joining, then surrendering unconditionally. Sand and salt water mixing together forming quicksand. It proved to be too much, and he found that he was suddenly desperate for some room of his own.
“That will take time too,” Ukitake told him before almost stumbling away.
“How much time?”
“A lot of time and patience,” the shinigami decided. “You’ll have to work for it. It’s not… These things can’t be rushed or forced, Stark. Feelings are not instant.”
“You’re angry.”
“No, I’m…” He sighed, after yawning. “Don’t read anything into this. I’m just tired.”
Stark considered this in stony silence before nodding sympathetically. “No one ever appreciates the value of naps until battle fatigue sets in.”
Managing a sad smile, Ukitake looked away. “Even so, you will give me time?”
“What you’re asking for… How can I deny you time if that is all you require in order to try and accept me? It is only sensible.”
“But?”
Stark offered up a wistful smile. “But I wish you weren’t so sensible.”
“Do you wish I’d stay here with you?”
Stark’s gloved hands clenched into fists and he stared up at the sky above them. “No, but I do wish I could stay here.”
“He’s taken this place away from you,” Ukitake stated sadly.
There was so little he understood about Stark. How could the Espada possibly think he’d be able to care for someone so foreign to what he knew? How could any hollow be in such an unbearable position that they would agree to accept judgment from shinigami to escape his own home?
One of the Espada’s hands opened and the palm came to rest on his shoulder. “Do you feel bad for me?”
“Yes, I do. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
First he’d rejected the curious exploration of the arrancar’s reiatsu. It had been aggressive, but it hadn’t been meant to spook him the way it had or else he wouldn’t have been able to break off contact. Then there was the fact that Ukitake’s manner of rejecting hadn’t been very kind or gentle. If anything it had been just as forceful.
To make matters worse, now the shinigami was busy pitying him while Stark was striving to be kind. The notion of anyone having to settle for pity in the hopes of kindling any other kind emotions in another was depressing. The notion of being that other person lacking in that sort of emotion was difficult to bear.
“I need to talk to Lilinette and then we can go.”
“All right,” he replied, staring down at the sand.
“I shouldn’t have said anything,” Stark murmured without moving away.
“I asked you to.”
“I didn’t mind. Please believe that. I don’t blame you, and I’ll try not to expect anything from you.”
Ukitake nodded woodenly as Stark kissed his cheek.
“You shouldn’t be under the misconception that you’re now obligated to feel anything, Jyuushirou.”
Ukitake looked up and nodded again.
Stark seemed to be debating something before he spoke. “I can see that you are anyway. But what you’re feeling… It’s not just pity. I know you think it is, but it’s more than that.”
Ukitake found himself reaching up to squeeze Stark’s hand, and biting his lip to keep from apologizing again once the Espada finally pulled away.
*