[He's quiet for a moment, confining his response to another soft hum as he considers what to say in response. Then there's a sigh to match Jyuushiko's, though it's more one of resignation. It's not the first time he's had the thought, since Aizen's goals had been laid bare, though it's the first time he's uttered it aloud, even to Ukitake.]

Perhaps not. But if that's true, then what of the person who sits on it now?

[Kyouraku doesn't flinch or pull away when she leans back, despite the fact that her weight - even as reduced as it is (and there's another flare of worry at that) - presses uncomfortably against his ribs.

He doesn't know if the bandages there cover the wound left by Aizen's blade, or those caused by the last flare of his sensei's zanpakutou but either way, he's well aware that they're far from healed. But the discomfort is offset by the cool, if reduced pressure of Jyuushiko's reiryoku - amplified by the closer physical contact - and the involuntary intake of air that he can't quite suppress is instead disguised by another soft, but short laugh.]

Optimism has always been part of your charm, Jyuu.

Can it wait until tomorrow? Even I can only avoid so much work in a day, and I'm sure Nanao-chan already has enough outstanding paperwork to cover all the walls of Eighth.