Notes: This was inspired by NessieGG's Seven Deadly Sins. If you haven't read that yet, go!
I realize these two aren't the most virtuous of people, but I consider them to be something of a well-balanced mix.
Yargh. I think I messed up the characterization like whoa. Feel free to point out other mistakes.
Rating: K+ or PG
Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Kubo Tite. Idea of the virtues goes to Aurelius Clemens Prudentius.
Chastity: The Purity of Body and Mind
Yoruichi was born a symbol of purity to the noble world. It was true that she was female, but the Shihouin house had become less particular with gender when for a long time they could not produce a healthy heir. In this case, heiress. They were careful in their handling and education of her. She was untainted, untouched, unmarred. She was perfection.
Until she stumbled into Rukongai. Her perfection was slightly blemished by the boy who had been born not as a symbol, but just for the sake of being born. He laughed at her, tugged at her hair, and smeared dirt on her nose. In his own way he was as pure her, as dirty as his clothes were and as dusty as his hair was.
They were children, and children were arguably the purest of beings. They were in the pursuit of knowledge. Knowledge was said to be a way to achieve purity of mind, which didn't make too much sense to them. Knowledge drifted through storms and dragged through mud to get to the people that cared to take it in and feed it, but they didn't argue much about it.
All that was left was purity of the body.
They didn't quite understand what that meant at the time, but Urahara surmised it might have something to do with bathing often. He didn't believe it, but he didn't know how else people cleaned themselves.
She shrugged, smeared mud on his cheek, and laughed.
They weren't too inclined on hygiene, so the subject had been dropped.
She wasn't aware of when she began to look at her best friend in a different light, but she remembered the day she trapped him into the janitorial closet on the second floor of the academy building during break. When her eyes readjusted to the dim lighting of the glass jar of light herbs, she laughed at his dumbfounded expression.
"What? It's not everyday a pair of legs chokes me into going into a--why a clos--mmmf?"
He held out his arms as he was forced by Yoruichi's sudden weight on him to lean painfully against a shelf. With arms looped around his neck and legs wrapped around his waist she was like a leech as she kissed him hard. When she noticed he still hadn't returned the gesture she reached up and gently nipped at his ear.
He hissed. "Y-Yoruichi--" He managed to push her arms away, but her legs remained firmly around his waist. She leaned against the door with arms crossed under her chest.
"Kisuke, before you go on warning me about who I am and who I'm supposed to make out with--" She remembered he had once mentioned as a joke that her status was something akin to a metaphorical chastity belt, and he didn't dare go anywhere near it.
He waved his hands defensively. "Eh? Who do you think I am? I was just going to ask you if we could go somewhere else. It's a little cramped here, don't you agree?"
She deflated mid snarl. She blinked. "Oh."
When Yoruichi became commander of the covert ops she also became the very definition of the word secret. When taken into consideration with Urahara, who was mystery incarnate which was amplified due to his new position as twelfth division captain, they made the perfect mischievous duo. They defied everything they were supposed to be and still managed to do what was expected of them and more.
She was bold enough to guide Urahara to her mansion after a night of heavy drinking. She supposed she shouldn't have let him drink so much. He was bound to have a massive headache the next morning. There was only one thing she could do to ease it. They flashed through many doors and rooms until they came to her set of lavishly decorated private chambers.
"You call this a room?" He looked up and down the expansive space filled with gold silk, several polished tables, heavily embroidered kimonos, and meticulously sewn throw pillows. He picked one up and stared at it, highly amused. "This makes my living quarters look like a hut." He threw it in her direction.
She weaved out of it's way and pounced on his back. He grunted and fell onto a small pile of gold and red quilts. He vaguely noticed she had ripped his captain's cloak in her impatience and struggled to lie on his back. He stared at her cat-like smirk through half-lidded eyes as she straddled his hips.
They shared a momentary grin and twisted into the sheets.
-
When they thought about the subject of purity later, while Urahara sat propped against a wall with a bucket beside him and looking sleepy, he took back what he said about the numerous amount of baths.
"We weren't meant to be clean, anyway."
Yoruichi pulled his captain's cloak higher against her throat, leaned against his shoulder, and smiled. No, they weren't, and they couldn't have cared less.
-
Yoruichi was a symbol of purity to those who had no idea who she truly was.
She was tainted with the scent of blood and incense; she was touched by firm, but gentle calloused hands; she was marred with teeth marks and bruises and cuts. Even with these she was still perfect with her playful nature and cat-like grin. She had nothing to prove, only to hide, and she had no problems with such a little detail.
He was the only one who knew.