Emptying Pockets : A Musebox

[Retsu was tired.

No. That wasn't true. Retsu was utterly, bone-wearily exhausted.

It has been a week since Aizen fell. One of the worst weeks Retsu ever remembered in her long, long life. Yamamoto-soutaichou had fallen, along with three other captains, and several others were still in critical condition. She was one of the only people still capable of leading, yet she was also desperately needed in the healing ward.

She wasn't sure anymore how many days it had been since she slept. Shinigami were capable of going much longer without sleep than ordinary souls or mortals, but she was still reaching her limit. She glanced around and leaned against a doorpost for a moment, closing her eyes before she went into Jyuushiko's room.

It had taken all Retsu's considerable skill to save Jyuushiko. The blond arrancar had put a hole right through her chest, and there had been complications...Retsu still wasn't sure how fully her friend would recover. And Kyouraku Shunsui was still in critical condition in the room across the hall.

She took a deep breath and opened her eyes, passing through the kido barrier and going to Jyuushiko's bedside to see how she was doing.]