Author's Note: Getting inspired by my own share of endless illnesses. It was quite funny actually, I opened my mouth and everybody was like, "Gosh, you sound like Ukitake." But that didn't feel too good, trust me. Hahahaha.
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach
Ukitake, M.D.
By annyenil
Ukitake Jyuushirou woke up every morning in the world where monsters, ferocious monsters, and nefarious masterminds were ready to do malevolence any minute, any time. And he was one of the men (and women) born to guard the rest of his world from the evil. The bad. The Hollows. He had to face everyday the countless stacks of drudgery in the form of skyrocketing paperwork, he had to deal with his forever over-loving, over-doting subordinates who accidentally suffocates him at least thrice a day, he had to skive from the occasional mad shinigami pretending to be his adulating subordinate that actually wanted to suffocate him, he had to be prepared to fight any evil, restore any justice and at the same time still keep to his own principles.
But Jyuushirou's worst living nightmare had not been the haunting visage of a vicious Hollow that had murdered his beloved in his childhood, or of a loved one leaving him behind, torn apart by fate. No, no. He had none of that heart-wrenching history. He was pretty much a mellow fellow. His worst nightmare was naught but the must daunting of all: that persistent cough.
One's surmise would normally be that, how could anything be worse than living in fear of a world verging on a deadly war? But being constantly bothered by the cough had really been a pain for the centuries that Jyuushirou had lived. All through the night, his lungs would burn whether it was a distilled summer night, or a chilling autumn, or even a snowy winter. The sheer pain of it would spread all about his chest, churning the insides from his lungs to his heart, to his shattering ribcage.
Jyuushirou was personally a little surprised he made it that far.
Nights were long. Extensively long. Excruciatingly long. He would lay, his eyes wide open and unable to rest because of the pain that was hard to ignore. It would trickle upwards in the most anti-Newtonian manner and tickle him into coughing. He would perspire even in the coldest winter night in those exacting attempts to suppress that impending, inevitable cough.
And when it finally let through, goodness, that shot of pain penetrating through his entire chest like as though a flaming arrow had been shot at him. He had long learnt not to cringe or wince, for any additional movement of any part of his body only served to enervate him further.
And so when Ukitake Jyuushirou woke up on that fine sunny morning after a night of the occasional fever turmoil feeling rather refreshed and energetic, he was almost jumping with joy to find himself temporarily relieved from that never-ending cough. He needed the break. It had been quite awhile since he had been able to go to the garden and trim up his bonsai with Kiyone and Sentarou, or have tea with Shunsui, or drop by to visit Shiro-chan and Rukia-san. It's been awhile since he was able to inhale the fresh morning air raw with dew into his lungs without forcefully projecting it back out. He felt a catharsis cleansing him of all the weariness that had shrouded him for so long.
Almost excitedly, Jyuushirou skipped to the Division Courtyard to look for his faithful Kiyone and Sentarou who made great garden-trimming partners because they always fought to trim the bonsai more beautifully than the other, so they always ended up magnificently shaped giant bonsai, usually taking the form of their taichou's heroic poses. Which was a little embarrassing sometimes, but Jyuushirou appreciated the effort all the same. "Kiyone? Sentarou?" He called, gently tapping on the doors down the hallway, but it felt like as though the entire building of the Thirteenth Division was ghostly and vacated.
That was particularly strange for most of the time; Kiyone and Sentarou would have appeared in a fighting stack at his feet before Jyuushirou even opened his mouth. And today, he actually had to look for them. Not that he minded of course. That daily contentious behaviours of those two had long exhausted him, but he never had the heart to stop their youthful passions. Kaien's death had really driven those two to serve him with their lives: they couldn't live without their leaders, and it was bad enough that one had left, the other always seemed on the verge of leaving.
Jyuushirou shook his head to rid those morbid thoughts. He had more ebullience than he could have ever gathered in his centuries. That was definitely not going to waste. Like a flash of lightning, he quickly located his two fukutaichou at a corner outside his resting room. "Ooops." Jyuushirou scratched his head sheepishly. He had slammed the door into their faces accidentally when he left a moment ago.
"Are you all right, Kiyone, Sentarou?"
"Tai-taichou……We are very, very, very, very, sorry."
"I am sorrier, taichou."
"No, I am sorrier."
"No, I am sorrier." Kiyone stuck a weak fist up Sentarou's crooked nose bridge.
"You see, taichou," Sentarou returned with one smashing down on her head, "We were sick and fell asleep outside your room. Please forgive us."
"No! We cannot be forgiven! You can be a coward, but I, Kotetsu Kiyone, will die for my sins!" With a flash, Kiyone pulled out her sword.
But before Jyuushirou could even hold out a hand to stop her, both she and Sentarou had dropped to the floor like limply rag dolls. He put a gentle hand over each of their foreheads. "Goodness," he exclaimed with much clemency, "They must have been burning in hell during the night." He felt much sorrow, for he had repeatedly asked them not to guard his room at night, but they had always insisted so. And to think his subordinates had suffered so during the night for him was simply unbearable.
Without hesitation, he disappeared into the morning sun, rushing to look for Shunsui for help.
"Sui, I need your help." Jyuushirou announced at the rooftop where Shunsui was, as usual, recumbent with a straw hat over his face. He waited for a response. Now, that was anomalous, for by this time, Shunsui would have hopped up in his Superman uniform to save his best friend Ukitake from whatever distress he was facing. Instead, Shunsui merely had a snorting sound escape him without any movement.
Jyuushirou reached out to lift the straw hat, only to have Shunsui suddenly grabbing it very tightly over his face.
"What is the matter with you, Sui?"
"Nothing."
"Then let go of the hat. You are going to suffocate to death from it."
"I am already dead."
"Take it off." Ukitake warned like a mother warning one mischievously stubborn kid.
"Fine." Shunsui slowly lifted the hat, his eyes tightly shut as though in fear of something very bad happening. Jyuushirou's eyes opened wide.
"Goodness, Sui." Jyuushirou could not believe his eyes. His best friend was covering his face on his rooftop because his self-esteemed had plummeted due to his face being covered completely in ugly blemishes. Kyoraku Shunsui was having chicken pox. "You are going to the Fourth now!" Jyuushirou avowed, grabbing Shunsui, but this man's weight and obdurate nature had no match, especially when it concerned his reputation and appearance in public.
"Fine, you be stubborn. I will go get Nanao-san to help me."
"Don't bother," said Shunsui in his aberrant lifeless drawl, "She's got it too."
"Well, I will go find other people in your Division."
"They've got it too."
"Sui, are you trying to tell me that your entire Division has chicken pox?"
Shunsui nodded in resignation.
"And my entire Division has fever and flu?"
"They do? How interesting……" Shunsui had drifted off into deep uncomfortable slumber.
With a sigh and a puzzle in his heart, Jyuushirou set off to the Fourth Division. When he arrived, again, he could sense something wrong. Unohana senpai wasn't, as she usually was, at the doorstep with Isane welcoming him with that nice, warming smile of hers. Instead, a similar shadow seemed to be looming over the Fourth Division as well.
"Unohana senpai? Isane? Anybody?"
A very shifty looking Yamada Hanatarou crawled out of one of the rooms and bowed. "U-ukitake tai-taichou."
"What is going on here, Officer?"
"The entire Fourth Division is covered in swells and rashes." He bowed meekly, fighting the urge to scratch his back and buttocks which were also covered in swells and rashes. Jyuushirou sensed this and decided to let off this little officer.
What was going on in Sereitei? He asked repeatedly as he walked hurriedly to the Division Office where he knew Unohana would be resting.
Jyuushirou needed an answer to this peculiarity.