AN: This story sort of builds on the events of anime episode 264, and the idea that Starrk is Shunsui's Espada counterpart.

Shunsui woke up panting. He instinctively reached to the side of his futon, where his paired zanpakutou rested. He slid a hand along the cool steel of the longer blade, breathing heavily.

His sword spirits loved to play games. The taller woman, the manifestation of his longer tachi, was especially capricious, and it wasn't the first time he had been woken from sleep or distracted from training by her tempestuous moods. Usually he was aware of her calling to him, but tonight all he knew was that he needed her. Needed them. It was rare for the smaller woman to participate in such activities, and at first Shunsui had been relieved when the seemingly young girl was content to stare out the window as he and her more proactive counterpart toyed with one another. But when he had discovered that the small, quiet woman had an occasional penchant for dominating her more vivacious partners, he relished the infrequent opportunities to include her, and he hoped this would be one of them.

Urgently, perhaps even desperately, Shunsui whispered the spirits' shared name to his dark quarters. The shadows in the far corner seemed to resolve into a voluptuous form, and gracefully curving bones gleamed in the gentle moonlight. There was no accompanying gleam of a skull mask, however, but Shunsui watched as Katen Kyoukotsu's oiran form grinned devilishly.

"Seems little sister doesn't want to come out to play," she purred. "Or maybe she's occupied elsewhere?"

Shunsui had enough presence of mind left to be confused, though it was quickly slipping as Katen crossed the room towards his futon, hips swaying, the low-sitting edges of her top rippling enticingly. "Elsewhere..." he murmured.

Katen knelt in a straddle across his lap, reaching back to loosen his hair. Shunsui was almost lost in her ministrations, but his curiosity got the better of him and he held Katen firmly by her plunging collar. "Elsewhere," he insisted.

Katen leaned in. "It's no surprise she'd borrow your sword," she drawled seductively in his ear, "seeing as she uses her own so rarely that their relationship can't be nearly as close as ours."

Shunsui's mind wasn't as glazed as his dark, ashen eyes. He knew what his sword spirit meant, and he instinctively felt that it was true. Because as surely as he could see Katen's more forward half before him, he could feel her wakizashi companion, and her salacious anticipation was as clear as his own. It made his breath catch to feel her contribution to their collective urges; usually he drove their desire, along with the taller woman. And now, not only was he perfectly in sync with both of his swords, but his smaller sword seemed to be sharing that synchronicity with his staid lieutenant.

Shunsui leaned into Katen and nipped her ear. "Let's not leave out little sister, ne?" he whispered. She growled in response, eye flashing, and he dragged her up by the collar still in his grip.

Nanao sighed as she stared up at the crescent moon outside her window. She never stayed up this late, and trying to get into the office on time tomorrow was going to be a miserable feat. But the hair on her neck had been standing on end all evening, and even her zanpakutou seemed to crackle electrically on its stand in her quarters. She could swear she saw tiny blue glimmers of energy writhing on the bare blade, but every time she paced across the room to inspect it, it looked like plain steel.

She watched the blue light trick her eyes once more, and her uncharacteristic frustration came to a head. Striding across the room, she reached her sword in four long steps and seized it. Her fingers tingled as they did in training when she felt close to forcing her sword to manifest itself. But she had never felt the prickle at the back of her neck during training. She spun around, her dagger-length tanto at the ready.

The small woman standing in front of her didn't flinch in the slightest, despite being just inches from the tip of the short blade. Nanao's breath hitched as the moonlight caught the purple tint of the woman's hair, accented with a large skull ornament.

"Ka... Katen Kyoukotsu!" Nanao gasped, astonished. The girl quirked her head ever so slightly to the side and stepped to Nanao's side, craning her neck as she went to observe Nanao's stance. She stopped behind Nanao, who felt as if her night-shirt might be burning up along her spine. A whisper reached her ear and the fire spread.

"That's only half a name," the girl murmured. "The other half is for you to discern."

"Sakikaze*," Nanao replied, hardly knowing where the name came from but wanting suddenly to utter it again and again. Small, half-gloved hands seized Nanao's wrist, gently prying the dagger from her grasp.

"You'll have the chance," came the whispered reply, as if she had read Nanao's mind.

There was a metallic clink as the dagger settled back onto its stand, and Nanao turned to see Sakikaze staring studiously up at her. Reaching up, she brushed a hand through the hair where she had affixed flowers so recently, when she had first met the woman. To think she had gone so many years trying to draw her sword into manifestation and submission, only to draw her out of her shell by gently lacing flora into her hair.

Her lovely, silken violet hair. Nanao drew her hands through it, and the spirit inclined her head toward the motion. Intrigued, Nanao tugged gently as she reached the end of the strands, and the girl leaned forward. She could feel the breaths of the shorter woman on the skin of her throat bared by her simple kimono top. Sliding her hand back through purple hair, she braced the girl's head and brought it up to meet her own lips.

At first the kiss was hesitant, and Nanao merely savored the unfamiliar feel of soft lips against her own. She tasted of plums, Nanao mused absently. Suddenly, however, the electrical tingling she had noticed earlier from the sword surged through her, and the sweet, bright taste of sake flooded her mouth as Sakikaze's tongue slid past her lips. The aroma of sake and the force of the kiss soon had Nanao feeling lightheaded, and she broke the embrace gasping for breath.

She raised a hand to her trembling lips, and then jumped nervously as a brief knock sounded on the door. Before Nanao could summon her voice to answer, it slid open to reveal two imposing silhouettes. Two distinctive silhouettes, one in a flowing haori, and one with dramatic bones and curls adorning her hair.

"Nanao-chan," Shunsui murmured huskily.

*Sakikaze: blossoming wind