[To the rest, he doesn't say anything - just squeezes her fingers between his own with a quick and gentle pressure. He's never been able to lie to Ukitake - not really - not even to himself, if she was ever around to see it.
There were subjects they avoided - half-healed wounds which ran deeper than the physical - like the aftermath of Kaien's death, or Urahara's trial - or the fear that one day, either Ukitake's illness or Kyouraku's reluctance to fight would catch up with them. Like the unborn child who had died before either of them had known of her existence, extinguishing a possible future that Kyouraku had not even consciously realised he either wanted or expected and forcing him to face the limitations of Ukitake's health after centuries of denial.
These things they rarely spoke of directly, and even then only with intent. Instead, Jyuushiko would bury her grief and self-recrimination with work, while Kyouraku drowned his with sake, or the pleasures of the flesh. Occasionally things would boil over into a fight, either verbal or physical - each knowing the other's weaknesses well enough that it was only too easy to select the weapon that would cause the most pain. But even then it's anger born of an habitual honesty which Kyouraku has been unable to suppress since the first night he held Jyuushiko in his arms until her coughs subsided into sleep.
Right now, he doesn't have the strength to risk a fight - his thoughts still too disconnected to make perfect sense even to himself. A soft hum and he matches her smile with one of his own, though it's not reflected in his eyes, and he knows it.]
You always wanted to make something better, Ukitake - even then. Something different.
[His brow furrows in a slight frown, and he reaches up to rub tiredly at his right eye.]
Aizen wasn't insane. He betrayed Soul Society for a reason, whatever it was. We can't ask him now and maybe we'll never know for sure. But if there was a reason, it's still there - here.
no subject
[To the rest, he doesn't say anything - just squeezes her fingers between his own with a quick and gentle pressure. He's never been able to lie to Ukitake - not really - not even to himself, if she was ever around to see it.
There were subjects they avoided - half-healed wounds which ran deeper than the physical - like the aftermath of Kaien's death, or Urahara's trial - or the fear that one day, either Ukitake's illness or Kyouraku's reluctance to fight would catch up with them. Like the unborn child who had died before either of them had known of her existence, extinguishing a possible future that Kyouraku had not even consciously realised he either wanted or expected and forcing him to face the limitations of Ukitake's health after centuries of denial.
These things they rarely spoke of directly, and even then only with intent. Instead, Jyuushiko would bury her grief and self-recrimination with work, while Kyouraku drowned his with sake, or the pleasures of the flesh. Occasionally things would boil over into a fight, either verbal or physical - each knowing the other's weaknesses well enough that it was only too easy to select the weapon that would cause the most pain. But even then it's anger born of an habitual honesty which Kyouraku has been unable to suppress since the first night he held Jyuushiko in his arms until her coughs subsided into sleep.
Right now, he doesn't have the strength to risk a fight - his thoughts still too disconnected to make perfect sense even to himself. A soft hum and he matches her smile with one of his own, though it's not reflected in his eyes, and he knows it.]
You always wanted to make something better, Ukitake - even then. Something different.
[His brow furrows in a slight frown, and he reaches up to rub tiredly at his right eye.]
Aizen wasn't insane. He betrayed Soul Society for a reason, whatever it was. We can't ask him now and maybe we'll never know for sure. But if there was a reason, it's still there - here.