Rise and Shine

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[Jyuushiko has been waiting here at least three hours now - Retsu has already come by once to ask if she'd rather just rest in her own room and be called when Shunsui finally woke up, but she wanted to be here, this time. With any luck his fever had broken enough that they could talk, at least.

The wheelchair was a concession to Retsu - one she had to somewhat grudgingly admit was necessary after her first attempt at walking to Shunsui's room had ended rather abruptly less than halfway through with her curled on the floor, racked with coughs that brought up blood. Still, she could have done without the reminder of her current continued infirmity. The blanket tucked in around her lap only makes her feel more like an old woman, even though she knows right now she'd be shivering otherwise.

Still, she knows Shunsui will not judge her weaknesses, which is a small relief. Of course, he'd have to wake up, first.]

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[There's a slightly more honest smile at that. She had seen - and heard - Shunsui's former lieutenant more than once during her stay in Fourth so far. It had been a small moment of joy, to have their former companions back, alive, in the face of so much death.]

Alive. Annoyed.

[There's the barest hint of amusement there - Yadomaru Lisa had never been one to hold back her opinion, and it seemed that much had not changed in the last century, at least. Much to the disappointment and fear of many Fourth Division shinigami]

She went back to Living World as soon as Retsu let her up for more than five minutes at a time. Said she'd wait for us to sort things out here, first.

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[There's a pause - a moment of silent relief in which he closes his eyes even more tightly - then a soft, baritone rumble of amusement at Ukitake's assessment of his former Fukutaichou's condition.]

She was never one to submit quietly to a stay in Fourth.

[Another silence, this one slightly more prolonged, because his words recall to him the last time he had seen her, a hundred years ago. It had been barely more than a glimpse - of a face and body he had once known almost as intimately as Jyuushiko's, but which had been barely recognisable under the blood and the bruises and that white... filth that crawled over her like a parasite. And then she was gone, lost in a sea of onmitsukidou while he was firmly ushered away by Unohana, despite his arguments and the searing mix of guilt and grief and rage that had made him careless even of Yama-jii's displeasure.

Finally he smiles, opening his eyes and letting his hand drop from Jyuushiko's face back to his lap. His other arm, however, remains firmly around her waist, and he leans back slightly despite the protest from his still-healing body at the sudden change of position.]

Yare yare. Then we'd better not make her wait too long, Ukitake. She might think better of it and come back just to kick my ass for not working fast enough.

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[It's good to hear that soft laugh again, and she smiles a little wider, a little warmer.]

When you stay it like that, you make me want to stall just to watch the ensuing fall-out. Just like old times, ne?

[Like before Aizen, before the war, before their companions were taken from them, changed - she hadn't been affected quite so directly then, at least - but she had seen Shunsui's grief, and it had mirrored her own, decades later, with Kaien's loss. It's foolish to think they can really go back to the way things used to be, but she can dream a little.]

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So cruel, Jyuu.

[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.

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[She sighs, and nods her head slightly. She has had plenty of time to contemplate the 'why' of Aizen's actions, since his defection. Some of these thoughts she had shared with Shunsui, and some - the more angry, bitter ones - she had kept to herself. She had liked Aizen Sousuke - considered him a friend, even, if not a close one. They'd been of similar background and disposition - or so she had thought, anyway - and there had been a fair number of quiet conversations over shared tea in her past with him. And that meant his betrayal had felt personal, to her.

And Shun was right. They'd never have the 'whys' now - not from Aizen, anyway.]

I'm not sure I'd call a desire to sit on the throne of heaven a sane one. But you're right. His decisions were reasoned.

[Another small sigh, as she leans a little more heavily on Shunsui - less in need of the support and more for just the touch, the physical weight of his presence.]

Which leaves finding the reasons to us.

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[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.

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[The person who sat on it now... They had accepted the rule of the Spirit King for centuries - complacency born out of trust in the order of things. But she of all people should have thought to question more than that - 'the order of things' was not necessarily a fair or just order. Aizen had left them with more to clean up than just the dead, it seemed.

The soft laugh is a welcome distraction from those rather unhappy thoughts, and she gives Shunsui a small, sidelong grin.]

My life would be too depressing if I wasn't an optimist, I think.

[Though even that joke is a little bleak, for her. Too much looking mortality in the face, these last few weeks - there have been close calls before, for both of them. It was part of being a soldier for centuries. But this one was closer than all of those had been.

She realizes how off that sounded, tries to cover it with a smile.]

As if Retsu would let you do anything right now - she's probably annoyed you're even sitting up.

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[He doesn't return her smile, instead turning his head slightly so that he can rest it against the top of hers; letting his eyes close and the tangled mess of his hair slip down to cover his face.

To Shunsui, the words are a painful reminder of his own helplessness in the face of Ukitake's sickness. That no amount of anger at whatever or whoever had caused it to happen can ever change the reality; that no matter how much he wishes it, he can never take her place.

You are a fool. She would not want it, even if it were possible.

Katen's interruption is not unexpected - her opinion on the subject having been made clear many times over the centuries - and her remark prompts a small, though bitter, smile.

I know that. Though some might argue that makes her more of a fool than me.

Out loud he just exhales gently against Jyuushiko's hair, slipping his other arm back around her waist to keep her where she is.]

If Retsu didn't intend for me to break the rules, she'd never have let you in. You're too beautiful a temptress and she knows my weaknesses far too well.

[This time his attempt at a laugh catches in his lungs, ending as a cough that he can't quite hold back. Mercifully it's just the one, but it still brings with it a sharp pain in his chest and the taste of ash and blood.]

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[She lets Shunsui tuck her up against him - half the time she'd complain, even in jest, about such an openly protective move, and certainly has in the past, the many times he's done it. When they were in the Academy, still working out the balance between them, it had frustrated her. But that was a long time ago, and right now - she's content to accept the gesture and what it means. A small bit of comfort when it feels like everything else is falling apart around them.]

Hmph. No temptress today - and you're not in any state fit to be tempted, I think.

[A small tease, though the humor in his voice makes her intent clear. The half-smile drops from her face at the slightly wet sound of that cough, though. Not the first time she's heard it outside her own body, but there's a surge of panic each time, knowing what it could mean.]

Are you alright?

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[A part of his mind knows that the lack of protest from Jyuushiko should worry him - that usually, even if he got his way, it was rarely without a tart remark at the very least. But he's too grateful to have her there - to feel the warmth of her body against him and the countering coolness of her spiritual power filling the dark void where his own should be - grateful enough to push the spark of concern away before it takes shape.

And besides - after two centuries, Kyouraku knows his own faults, and would never deny that an inclination to self-indulgence is of them, even at the worst of times... perhaps especially at the worst of times. Lowering his head slightly, he places a kiss on the exposed skin behind her ear.]

Oya, I'm always fit enough to be tempted.

[Still, he's careful not to inhale too sharply, especially with the weight of her against him - experimentally taking one slow, shallow breath after another. Kyouraku's memories of the past few days - weeks - are muddy, despite the clarity of the fever dreams, but he can remember the sensation of drowning all too well - of being unable to draw air into his lungs and the naked fear that had accompanied it.

It's something that he has seen for himself - that Ukitake has described to him many times after an attack, or after waking in a breathless panic in the middle of the night. But it's the first time that he has fully understood it, and his arms tighten around her a little at the question.]

You know me, Jyuu. It's nothing that won't heal - given enough time and enough sake.

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[She can't help a small shiver at the light kiss - her body may be battered and exhausted, but it still reacts - and that's a sensitive spot. The tiny spark of physical pleasure is enough to chase away some of the fear, unknot a little of the tension that the rough cough had brought with it.]

I didn't think to smuggle some in with me, unfortunately - though I think Retsu would have frisked me if I so much thought of it.

[The jest makes her feel a little like her old self, the rhythm between them familiar.