Hello everyone, I have a confession to make: I am a little more than mildly addicted to pairing Nanao with Shunsui.

After reading everyone's lovely stories, I've decided to add to the slowly growing collection. I recently came across a list of 100 themes for the couple (http://community. and decided to scrape some of the rust and mold off my writing skills. Here's the first and may there be many more!

Please take the time to kindly donate a review. You might find a review on your own story and more frequent updates to this one.

One is Lonely, Two is Company

Theme 1: Of two

On a rainy morning that was not quite illuminated by the first stirrings of the rising sun, a lone soul sat in a silence punctuated by curls of steam rising over a cup of green tea. Nanao loved the silence, the solitude. In it, her space and her time belonged to her alone and, selfishly, she relished in it. But it was something to only be savoured occasionally because her life was proportioned to think, plan, and care for two rather than only one and she would not have it any other way.

From her first day in the Academy, there was Matsumoto. They were complete opposites in so many ways and perhaps that was why they were such fast friends. Gorgeous, golden, carefree Rangiku had laid claim to her from the moment they had met and they had been inseparable through the long lectures, even longer nights of study, and the occasional dashes of fun that Nanao allowed.

Rangiku gave herself into Nanao's keeping and care. In return, Matsumoto had made it her mission to never allow Nanao to get buried too deeply in work or wind herself up too tightly in her own expectations.

Nanao prepared their meals, as Rangiku was a hopeless cook, under the agreement that there was something solid and healthy in Rangiku's stomach before the blond began her evening's revelry. It was also part of their agreement, Matsumoto demanded, that Nanao would eat at least twice a day regardless of how much homework, studying and practice needed to be done. And tea did not count as eating.

On the nights that Matsumoto was too drunk to make it back to their quarters, the quiet shinigami student would traipse through the dark streets and loud bars to bring her friend home. The morning after those nights, Rangiku would wake to find the afternoon sun peaking through the shades, a glass of water by her head, and a note on the table telling her to meet her friend in the library for catch-up. Despite much chastising, Nanao never pushed her friend to change her ways and Rangiku did the same, whenever she changed the cool cloth on Nanao's forehead to soothe the migraines that plagued her after too much time spent in reading or changed the old bandages wrapping fingers burnt from over-practice of high-level kido.

Whether Rangiku had gossip to tell, excited news to confide, or heartbreak to share, Nanao always had the time and patience to listen. And although she didn't understand a good portion of it, Matsumoto never failed to pay attention to Nanao's informal lectures on her newest discoveries.

Things changed when they graduated and worked their way up the ranks in their respective division. The two kept a close friendship but spaces where Rangiku used to be and was not anymore opened in Nanao's life. Though she spent the extra time honing her skills and filled the surplus space in her new dwellings with books, her days seemed quieter for the lack of another person constantly wandering in with their stories, needs, imperfections and presence. Life was busy but lonely.

Then, she was transferred to Eighth Division as its new fukutaichou.

Kyouraku-taichou crowded into her life with his wide shoulders and ever-ready endearments. They shared an office and, try as hard she might, her paperwork constantly mingled with his half-filled sake bottles, loose-leaf poetry, and the languid body of a very tall and oft-drunk man lounging on the floor. The sobering scents of her tea and ink mixed strangely but not uncomfortably with the sharper flavours of his alcohol and musk. Her demands for him to finish his paperwork were punctuated by his flowery phrases of 'sweet, lovely, adorable Nanao-chan'. Every so often, he would intrude into her face with a light touch on her arm or puckered lips in her face, which earned him just as often a well-placed object to his head or midsection.

While they danced in opposition in the office (when he advanced with romance, she retaliated with her tome; when she advanced with paperwork, he retaliated with puppy eyes), they danced in harmony on the battlefield. The curved blades of Katen Kyoukotsu flashed in the deadly light of demon arts as they guarded each other's weaknesses. She kept the troops safe and allowed him to focus on the most pressing dangers without having to worry about their less experienced charges. He made sure that she never had to look death in the eye in the striking of the fatal blow. Together, they tended to the injuries and traumas of their fellow shinigami before they wrapped each other's wounds and pestered the other home to rest.

Shunsui invited himself into his Nanao-chan's personal life as well, despite her objections and well-thrown objects. She would sometimes come home to find that he had helped himself to her groceries to prepare more food than she could eat in a week clustered on her tiny kitchen table. And he would kneel there, with an infuriatingly calm smile, waiting for the inevitable invitation to help her finish the food. She could count the number of steps she took out her door before she would find him strolling leisurely across her path on their way to work. He insisted that she accompany him on his regular visits into Rukongai as volunteer magistrate, during which he insisted every time in buying her a sweet (she never did figure out how he knew that she liked her candy as much as he liked his sake).

Since the first day that Nanao had stepped into Eighth Division, Shunsui had made sure that her life brimmed and burst with his. She had fought him every day for the past few centuries but Shunsui was a stubborn man. He had his way and she, despite her constant appeals to the contrary, came to accept that she had welcomed his life into hers a very long time ago.

"Love, you should come back inside," a warm voice whispered next to Nanao's ear as a familiar pink haori was smoothed over her shoulders. She turned her head to give Shunsui a sceptically raised brow, even as she leaned into the proffered kiss.

"Alright." Strong arms came around for support, hands covering her own over a round belly. Together, they went inside.