Random idea, senseless pairing, but there was a feeling behind the crackness that could not be denied. So here we go.
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Waiting.
Waiting for a patient with a rather…unusual malady.
Kotetsu Isane couldn't cure the problem that plagued her patient, it wasn't in her power. But she could still treat the symptoms; could ease the woman's burden. Looking out her window, she could see her patient approaching, and right on schedule, a mob close behind her, all of the shinigami in various states of injury, those that could walk carrying those that could not. The 11th squad was helping out as well, in a rather…unique way. Isane had secured their assistance by allowing Zaraki Kenpachi to avoid the uncomfortable semi-annual checkup that was hated by seemingly every shinigami in Soul Society.
For this small favor, all Zaraki-taichou had to do was throw a surprise combat exercise and be sure plenty of badly beat-up squad members appeared at the fourth division headquarters at a certain time.
The chaos it caused was more than sufficient, and Isane felt mildly sorry for what she did. But this is what fourth squad is for. Helping people.
And the one person that needed help the most had just walked past her office without so much as a glance in her direction. She was already carrying the papers and new medicine samples that she had been sent to the fourth division headquarters to retrieve.
Isane couldn't grasp why Nemu showed such loyalty to her 'father' with the treatment she received from him. It wasn't until after their very first session together that Isane realized just how bad things were. Finding scraps of time for Nemu's care had become one of Isane's top priorities. In this case, the bedlam created by so many wounded 11th division shinigami should provide an adequate explanation for a few minutes of tardiness to a captain who demanded absolute perfection from his subordinates.
Far away from the commotion, in a small room she had prepared ahead of time, Isane pulled the door shut just as Nemu grabbed her from behind, tearing at her clothes, pulling her across the room and kissing her with enough force to bruise. Isane responded in kind, discarded sandals, clothes and weapons marking the route to the tiny bed where they crashed against each other, passionate and loving, frantic and desperate.
Nemu was in need, as Isane would do whatever she could to help. It was her duty.
She was a healer, after all.