A/N: Hey there! This is one of my ancient pieces that had been previously hidden in the Misfit-Closet, and I decided to unearth it for reasons unknown to even myself. Originally written as a birthday present to M(dot)Infinity, who is much more awesome than this fanfiction. See, I was looking at Shunsui's name and Shakespeare's, and decided that starting with the same two letters was enough of a similarity for an idea. Anyways, yes, I am working on the sequel to Bella Luna, but it's only 20% done. I fail, yes, I know. Read through this, though, it's fun enough but for the poor writing style. Enjoy, enjoy, only the best to you all... And remember to review! Haha. --Misfit
Shunsui the Bard
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Gentle breezes danced playfully along the lake side, crisp zephyrs stirring the petals of the large Sakura tree closest to the water, their happy whispers in tune with the crinkling sound of pages turning.
Ise Nanao, vice captain of the irrepressible and almost always drunk 8th division, smiled, enjoying her peaceful solitude while it lasted. Which, she mused, would not be long. Tapping her fingers in an unspoken countdown, she waited, patient as usual. San… ni…ichi…
The soft crackle-pop of her captain's (who else would it be?) shunpo echoed in a limb above her, and without even looking up she knew there would be a flamboyant pink haori nestled in the branches, blending in almost perfectly with the Sakura petals.
Shaking her raven-haired head slowly, she frowned and returned to her book, trying to wring a scant few more moments of peace from her day. Her violet eyes ceased their roving, however, at a discreet cough overhead.
"How now, my love!" Kyouraku Shunsui called, mouth stumbling over the unfamiliar Old English words. "Why is your cheek so pale? How chance the roses there do fade so fast?"
Nanao almost swallowed her tongue at the familiar words—familiar to her books, not to her wayward captain.
Coughing slightly, she responded with a different passage than the one that should have followed. "I frown upon him, yet he loves me still."
"O that your frowns would teach my smiles such skill!" was the immediate reply.
Stifling a laugh, and slightly amazed that Shunsui—Shunsui—was able to follow the lines, Nanao merely deadpanned with, "A Midsummer Night's Dream, Act I, Kyouraku-taicho."
She heard a huff, and felt the tree sway as the 8th division captain disappeared.
8 oo 8 oo 8 oo 8
A few hours later, Nanao had reached the half-way point of her book when she heard the distinct sounds of her taicho returning.
"Doubt though the stars are fire / Doubt thou the sun duh-doth move / Doubt truth to be a liar / But never doubt I love / …er, you."
Snorting in a distinctly unladylike fashion at Shunsui's confusion over the sight rhyme of love and move, Nanao hid a smile behind her hand as she replied, "Hamlet, Act II, Kyouraku-taicho."
Nanao could picture his frustrated pout in her mind at the half-groan Shunsui made, and waited almost eagerly (but not quite, because she was Ise Nanao, remember) for her captain's next line.
8 oo 8 oo 8 oo 8
This time, at the creaking of the branches, Nanao decided to test her, for lack of a better word, suitor. "Be brief, I pray you," she said, wondering just how much Shunsui had actually worked.
"My queen! My mistress! O lady, be sad no more, lest I give cause to be suspected of more tenderness than doth become a man." Shunsui recited dutifully, a prideful edge adorning the words.
Nanao sat back with a thump, eyes wide. She blinked numbly, and when her eyes reopened Shunsui's hopeful face filled her view, head cocked to the side like a loyal puppy hoping he had done his trick well enough for a treat.
"I never, uh," Nanao silently cursed, grasping at her lost composure somewhat desperately. "I never knew you much cared for your portrayal of manliness, taicho."
The bamboo-hat perched on his brown hair bobbed slightly when he grinned. "Beauty, though a beauty be, often likes to run from me. Full of lovely, pristine grace, she tends to adore too much her space, and leaves little lonely me alone atop her balcony." He finished and sat down beside Nanao, proud of his literature skills as well as the fact that he could read he so well (avoidance of the real subject and a barbed insult=one flustered fuku-taicho).
"I…I do not know that one, taicho. Is it Shakespeare?" Nanao said, stunned.
"You wouldn't, it's not. I made it up!" he told her cheerfully, wrapping a warm arm around Nanao's shoulders, which she immediately tried, and failed, to get away from. Seeing her efforts were in vain, she eventually gave up, settling back and resolving to make a fuss about it… later.
"I see." Nanao waited a little, enjoying the peace (and, though she would never admit it, the warmth of her captain). "So… No Romeo and Juliet?"
Shunsui grinned sheepishly. "Well… their story ended kind of…tragically, and I didn't want to seem like I was gonna kill myself or anything." The shinigami started, struck by a sudden thought. "Not that I wouldn't, y'know, die for you, because I would, Nanao-chan, to save you."
Amethyst eyes twinkled in silent thanks, even as they flicked to him curiously. "Hmm. But, Kyouraku-taicho, Hamlet and Cymbeline are tragedies as well."
Shunsui's eyebrows tilted, but he threw the new information over his shoulder like he usually did with anything that hindered his plans.
"Y'know," he said casually, "Shakespeare was almost as crazy as old Yama, but… he's actually pretty int'resting, hmm? It didn't even seem like work, and I only dozed off thirteen times reading Much Ado About Nothing."
Nanao smiled appreciatively. Usually it would've been eight hundred and thirteen times.
"Mhm. Did you happen to read Twelfth Night, Kyouraku-taicho?"
And so the two spent their day, discussing (--blundering through with smiles and confused nods) fine literature by the lake-side and watching the sun set on the water. Shunsui, of course, tried to 're-enact' the end kissing scene, only to be thwocked rather harshly on the head with a fan. He didn't mind, though—he knew without a doubt theirs was a comedy, no hint of a tragedy in sight.
OMAKE (for the OTAKE)
"So, what exactly did you tell Shunsui?" asked a conspiratorial whisper.
"Well," a giggling voice drawled, "I asked him, see, I said, 'You gotta get into her head. Now think, Shun, what does Nanao –hic- like?', yeah?"
"Despite your obvious drunken state, Rangiku-san, yes, keep going."
"Nonsense, Uki-kun, I'm –hic- perfectly sober!"
"Mmm."
"Right, right, and he was all, 'Uh, not me?'" The voice laughed loudly. "And I slapped him, 'course, and said, 'No, stupid, think harder!' and he said, yeah, 'Books?' and I –hic- told him that it was a start, and to sit his pink flowery rear down and read."
"And he did? Really? I didn't even know he could read."
"Oh, I taught him that too."
"Now I know you're drunk. Oh, gods, their relationship is based off the questionable advice of a drunkard. Oh, Shunsui, I have failed you."
"Heh, heh, wait, what -hic- ever gave you that idea?"
Ukitake shook his head sadly as he stepped away from the now softly snoring Rangiku, dialing Hitsugaya-taicho on his cell because dammit, this was the sixth time this had happened and Rangiku was way too heavy to carry out of a Sakura tree without alerting the two exceptionally sensitive shinigami below, and it was a wonder they hadn't heard the drunk blonde already.