'Grief is the agony of an instant; the indulgence of grief the blunder of a life.'

- Benjamin Disraeli

--

Before it had happened, the Thirteenth Division had been such a lively place. There was a certain air of comradery that you could feel as soon as you passed the thresh-hold, purely because of the special bonds between each member and their superiors. There were usually quite a few parties that littered the compound after-hours that were, of course, kept secret from their taichou with the help of their lieutenant- though sometimes, even Kaien's spectacular forward-thinking couldn't quell the noise of a drunken Kiyone, Sentarou and at least thirty other shinigami under his command.

After all, he couldn't accomplish the impossible.

It would be a lie to say that there still wasn't something special about the Thirteenth; after all, people still thoroughly enjoyed being a member of it for various reasons. The easy-going nature and lengthy experience of their captain, the energetic third-seaters and the fact that it was actually possible to feel relaxed inside the Division. But still, it would also be a lie to say that things were still the same.

It had been a week since Kaien passed away in that fateful incident, and his death (among the others, including his wife, Miyako) was taking a toll on the shinigami that used to work with him.

There was not one person in the Thirteenth that didn't look solemn- even the normally bubbly Kiyone and Sentarou had dark rings under their eyes and a constant look on their face as if they'd seen a ghost.

Their captain, however, was putting on a brave front for them. After all, it was the least he could do. He had resigned himself to his office so that he could be closer to his subordinates, talking them through the tragedies that had occurred and offering a shoulder to lean on. Ukitake had received so many visitors recently, that he had spent long hours inside his office and often fell asleep at his desk, thoroughly worn out both emotionally and physically.

The events of the few days prior kept running through his head as if they were stuck on some sort of loop, a constant sense of haunting plaguing his mind. It was quite distracting and was also becoming detrimental to his health- something he couldn't really afford. However, the overwhelming feel of guilt and responsibility for what happened began to cause him to neglect his own health, determined to see everyone else through what he perceived to be his fault.

This day was just another of these days, and currently, the white-haired taichou was slumped over his desk, head resting on his arms. The sleep he got once he dozed off was fitful and intermittent, causing a slight frown to cloud his expression as he slept, as if none of the dreams that came to him were particularly pleasant. He had been this way for a while now, having been called on earlier by Unohana, who was adamant about expressing her concerns about his health.

Needless to say he had grinned ruefully and denied what she had said, insisting that he was fine, and yes, he was coping with Kaien's passing very well thankyou. He didn't know whether she believed him or not (and knowing Retsu, he'd probably go with the latter), but as soon as she had taken her leave, his eyelids had grown heavy and he soon found himself asleep on top of a neatly arranged stack of papers.

Whilst he had slept, it had also started to rain. At first, it had been light and quiet, the gentle drops of water pattering against the window of his office gently, the sound almost calming. However, it had just begun to develop into something more torrential, a howling gale accompanying a roar of rain blowing sideways, hitting the glass more violently now.

The noise was so loud that Jyuushirou began to stir, dark eyes opening a fraction before realising he had let himself escape from reality again in the form of another nap. A little displeased, he began to straighten up and looked over to the window, a thin, pale hand reaching up to his hair to untangle what had gotten messy during his 'break'.

How fitting, he thought to himself as he observed the weather, his tone almost bitter. Of course it'd be raining. There's nothing more suiting.

Strands of white hair parted as his fingers sifted through it, eyes fixed on the window. It had grown dark now, and he could only assume that it was some ungodly hour of the night. No doubt most of his Division would already be asleep- probably in slumber no less fitful than his- but the main fact was that he could take some solace in that he might've helped them in some way, today, and that made him feel at least a little at peace with himself.

With a sigh, he paused for a moment before getting up from his chair and navigating around his desk. He had gone for the same walk for a week now; at roughly the same time as well, for various reasons, most of which he would rather keep to himself. Perhaps that's why he waited until everyone else was asleep, so that no-one would be up to question him about why he was wandering around the Thirteenth's command centre so late at night. Yes, he preferred solitude at this particular moment, he decided as his eyes drifted briefly to the window- which was still being pelted with rain- before slipping open the paper door to his office as quietly as possible and stepping into the hall.

It wasn't a particularly long walk; in fact, his destination was just down the well-polished hallway, a familiar room for anyone that was a member of the Division. Really, there was only one other door you could go through down the hall, and no lights were on inside- not that Jyuushirou really expected any to be, that is. The sound of his sandals tapping the wooden floor stopped for a second as he reached he closed paper door, and the tall captain hesitated for a minute, regarding it as if he was unsure whether he should enter or not.

Then again, he'd had this debate with himself every night for a week now and it always ended up the same way.

Long fingers gently pulled at the edge of the door, allowing him access to the dark, empty room and he let himself in quickly, as if he were afraid to let anyone see him enter. Shutting it again, Ukitake let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding and turned around, gaze playing over the various shadowed objects in the room.

Kaien's office.

When he was in here, it was almost as if his lieutenant was still alive, still around. He couldn't really say just why he felt that way, but whenever he came in here late at night, it was easier on his mind somehow. The office was still full of Kaien's things, as the Shiba clan had yet to come and collect them, it was still neatly arranged, just how he'd've left it. It still smelt of him, and even though Jyuushirou had sworn to countless people over the past few days that he was quite over the man's death, being in this room comforted the part of him that was still aching from the incident.

Taking a few tentative steps across the tatami as if he knew he shouldn't be there, Jyuushirou reached out a too-thin hand and briefly hesitated before running the pads of his fingers across the edge of Kaien's desk.

--

"Taichou, I know y' mean well and all, but kindly get outta my office."

Ukitake made a face at the man sitting at the desk, the brush in his hand poised in front of a blank piece of paper. His lieutenant's words were edged, but they had both been working together too long not to know that he was really kidding. Well, mostly.

"I've been away from work for far too long, and you know it," He replied, his legendary stubbornness beginning to shine through. It was true, as well- he'd been bedridden for over a week, and he knew that whilst he had been recovering Kaien had been taking on all the extra work without his permission. It had gone on long enough. "So if you'd kindly just give me what's left of the backlog, I'll leave quietly."

Kaien regarded his captain for a second, reaching forward to grab the stack of papers almost as an afterthought. He could never be too careful with the taller man, but luckily his stubbornness was just as legendary as the other's- which had caused more than a small number of clashes between them in the past.

"I'm not givin' you these, so y' might as well give up whilst you're ahead." Kaien stated simply, adamant about his decision. This wouldn't take him too long anyway, as the paperwork wasn't all that difficult and barely of consequence. That, and he knew that Ukitake still wasn't feeling all that well, which was just another of many deciding factors.

"Kaien!"

Jyuushirou was obviously a little frustrated, his brows knitted a little with that 'do-as-I-say-please' expression on his face- and the fact that he had called his lieutenant by his first name instead of the usual friendly 'Shiba-kun' was more than enough to tell the younger man he was getting himself into hot water.

And still, as always, Kaien didn't mind.

Placing the papers he had taken hostage back down on his desk neatly, the fukutaichou began to get up, one of his hands running through his wild black hair. Before Ukitake knew it, Kaien was standing next to him and fixing him with the most serious expression he could muster (which, he thought, could still do with a little work to make it look more convincing), one of his large hands gently gripping his captain by the shoulder.

"Look, taichou, if y' keep pushin' yourself like this, you're gonna make us all have kittens with the worry." His lieutenant murmured, his normally rough voice a lot gentler, a lot quieter now. "I'm honoured t' be able t' do this work for you- so why don't y' go back to your quarters and rest a little longer?"

"But, I'm feeling fi-"

Kaien wasn't going to allow him to finish that sentence.

"I'll check in shortly, a'ight?" A pause, as if his lieutenant was thinking about something else completely, and then all of a sudden that cheery and impossibly commanding voice returned, combined with a gentle push towards the door. "Right! See y' soon, taichou!"

Only turning back briefly to flash Kaien a look that said he'd have a lot to deal with later, Jyuushirou decided that he wouldn't argue any further on the matter.

This time.

--

Absorbed in the seemingly random memory that had been recalled to him, Ukitake hadn't noticed that he wasn't alone in the office anymore. Instead, there was a large figure that had slid open the paper door as quietly at possible standing and watching the white-haired captain stare off dully into the distance at some non-existent object. Since it was so dark due to nightfall and the fact that there were no lights on in the room, the person was shrouded and it was difficult to see who it was, exactly- though, when they spoke, Jyuushirou was brought back to reality so fast he jumped a little.

"Jyuu? Is that you?"

Such a familiar voice, one that Ukitake could never fail to recognise. Immediately a look of guilt and shame washed over his face as he looked away from the door frame quickly, embarrassed he had been caught in Kaien's old office.

"… yes, it is."

Of course, the newcomer knew it was him and was just asking purely to warn his old friend that he had turned up, but Ukitake wasn't about to complain. He was in no position to.

"I went to your office to look for you, but you weren't there."

The large figure took a tentative step into the office, crossing the tatami mat that the other had crossed just before, coming to stand by Jyuushirou's side. There was no hesitation in putting a large, warm hand on his shoulder; an action that made Ukitake shiver briefly, the sensation being so similar to the way he remembered Kaien doing the same thing but a few moments ago.

Deciding that his expression was now suitably blank, he glanced towards the owner of that hand and tried a small smile.

"I'm sorry, Shun. I didn't mean to worry you."

Shunsui eyed his friend with hidden skepticism, but the corners of his mouth curled upwards slightly at his folly. He had been more than worried about Jyuushirou since Kaien had died- and coming across him here, in this empty room in the dead of night, had proved that his suspicions were more than founded.

"You never do," He countered, keeping his voice that same level, lazy drawl it always was. "But you have a talent for it, you see."

A short space of silence passed between the two before Shunsui realised that the other wasn't going to reply, instead staring off out at the torrential rain through the window next to the desk.

"Jyuu," He began again, his voice softer. "Why are you here?"

The shorter man visibly flinched, as if he didn't know the answer to the question himself, and again, for a few moments, the sound of the rain pounding on the glass was the only noise to fill the room.

"I was… just passing, and I thought I heard something, so I came in to check it out." Ukitake said finally, trying to flash a smile and pass this off just how he intended; an accident, nothing else.

Like hell you did, Shunsui thought flatly, his free hand raising to scratch his chin.

"As good a friend as you are, I have to let you know you're about as good at lying as Matsumoto-chan'd be at disguising herself as a boy."

His friend's face fell at this, those brown eyes looking elsewhere once more. There was a quiet rustle of cloth as Ukitake folded his arms, the giant sleeves of the haori he was still wearing almost seeming to swallow up the thin limbs in the material. Shunsui's gaze flicked downwards, ever watchful, and that annoyingly persistent little voice of worry piped up once more at seeing his old friend in such a state.

"It's nothing," Jyuushirou tried instead, attempting to plaster that carefree smile back on his face; but both men in the room knew it wasn't fooling either of them. They had known each other for far too long. "Really!"

"Jyuu-"

No...

"I'm sorry for worrying you," The shorter captain repeated, that fake smile still on his face as he cut off the other's insistent words. After all, he knew that once Shunsui started using his full name with him with that tone of voice, he was going to have to explain himself sooner or later- and he wasn't ready. Not yet. Slowly, one of Ukitake's lithe hands appeared from the mass of haori and reached up to gently touch the hand that was still on his shoulder in a gesture of reassurance. "But I'm coping fine. This was just an accident like I said it was, Shun- really, you're turning into a brooding mother hen!"

The other remained silent, though Ukitake knew that he wasn't believing a second of this. He was almost about to apologise again and leave before Shunsui's figure visibly heaved, a laboured sigh escaping his lips.

"I'll come and see you tomorrow then, moonbeam."

Jyuushirou looked visibly relieved at the return of his friend's usual lax tone and ridiculous words, out of trouble for the time being. Forcing another smile to his face, the hand that had been gripping the other's dropped back to his side and he nodded slightly, ghost-like hair spilling into his line of sight at the movement.

"Tomorrow." He agreed, looking back towards Shunsui amiacbly. The taller man studied him for a moment, wondering if he had made the right decision by leaving Ukitake to his own devices; but the war within himself soon ended and he chuckled quietly. Raising his hand from Jyuushirou's shoulder, he entangled it in the other captain's hair and ruffled it gently.

"'night, Jyuu. Remember, porcelain dolls like yourself need to take care of themselves."

And with that, the warmth from his hand was gone from the top of his head and Ukitake found himself standing alone in Kaien's office once more, surrounded by nothing but darkness and his memories.

Once he was certain that Shunsui had left the building, he let out a small sigh of his own, bringing a palm up to cover his face.

Why was this so incredibly hard...?

It was as he moved slowly around his lieutenant's old desk and sat in the chair he used to spend so much time in, that Ukitake realised it was going to take him longer than he had thought to find the answer to that question.

It was going to be a long night...