Disclaimer: Bleach is the property of its creator, Kubo Tite, and of various companies that publish it.. We all know I'm not making any money out of this; just playing with the characters a bit.

A/N: This was inspired by a song by the French singer Calogero. A friend of mine introduced me to itand proceeded to explain why it made her think of Shunsui. I would have liked to translate the lyrics. Actually, I started, but it all sounded so horrible compared to the original lyrics that I promptly gave up. It's basically abouthow youcan't fight and cause any harm to anyone while you're asleep. Or something. Anyway,I agreed with her that it suited him well and this is what happened.
It's the first time I write those two. Hope you won't find them too OOC.


"Typical…"

Cursing silently, 8th Division Vice-Captain Ise Nanao walks briskly through the corridors, barely acknowledging any of the officers she walks past who stop to salute her. She's already been to the office, his private quarters—not that the dared step in there, of course—the cherry tree under which he likes wasting so much of his time, as well as various other places, and her patience is now wearing thin.

Very thin.

Making sure that she isn't being followed, she makes her way to the roof of the 8th Division building. As expected, she finds him there, lying down on the cloak he's sprawled out on the tiles, arms crossed under his head, one leg folded over the other, and his straw hat shading his face from the sun. She can also see a bottle of sake—empty, of course—by his side.

Putting her notebook down on the tiles, she effortlessly pulls herself up through the trap door. As she stands up again after picking it up again, a stray lock of hair comes to tickle her nose. She tucks it back behind her ear in no time at all, where it belongs.

She learned a long time ago that there was a place for everything.

And the roof, she reflects as she gingerly makes her way towards him, clearly isn't hers. Nor is it his, but she's now come to admit that he will never understand that fact.

When she's finally standing a few feet away from him, she pushes her glasses back up her nose. "Taichou?"

No reaction.

"Taichou." This time it's not a question.

Taking a deep breath, she stands upright and grips her notebook tighter.

"Kyouraku-taichou!"

He stirs ever so slightly.

"Aaah, my sweet Nanao-chan…" he says as he moves the straw hat aside so he can see her—while her nails dig into the leather cover of the notebook—"what a delight it is to be awakened by the pleasant sound of your voice…"

"Taichou," she says before he gets into his usual monologue, "a mission that was destined for our Division has been handed to another one because you weren't there to receive it. I tried to argue since I'm usually the person who deals with these things anyway, but there was nothing I could do." She pauses for a second or two, to make it all sound more dramatic. "I will not stress enough how embarrassing this is for our entire Division."

He lets out a loud sigh. "I'm sorry about this, Nanao-chan…"

No you're not.

"What kind of mission was it?"

"A horde of Hollows has been spotted."

Another sigh.

"Which Division was it given to?"

"The 11th, I think."

He chuckles, and she knows why.

"Do you know, Nanao-chan…when we're asleep we can't do any harm to anyone. Even to our enemies."

"They were Hollows, Taichou."

"I'm not only talking about Hollows. If you think back about this whole affair with Kuchiki-san, the ryoka and then Aizen…" He doesn't bother finishing his sentence and pauses for a time, staring at the clouds serenely drifting above their heads, before letting out another sigh. "The most peaceful time of day really is at night."

She stares at her leather-bound notebook for a while, thinking about what he's just said. She knows all the creases and scratches on it and could probably point out ever single one with her eyes closed, but somehow it always helps.

"I think I understand what you're saying, Taichou," she says at length. "But some of...us," she adds, almost sounding as if she's choosing her words carefully, "have decided to follow a particular path which means that fighting is…our duty."

She leaves it at that and waits to see if he will react, or how he will react. She knows other people would tell him frankly to drop the act and stop hiding the way he always does. But she's not "other people". She's his Vice-Captain, and, despite appearances, she understands him.

So when he doesn't react at all, she's not actually surprised. She understands his silences. They might be nothing but simple silences to anybody else, but she knows about all the unspoken thoughts that fill them. Or most of them at least.

"And there's one problem," she eventually says.

He tilts his head back as far as he can. "Eh?"

"It's not night time."

He withdraws his gaze and chuckles softly the way he always does when he thinks she's being too logical. She hates it and he knows it too.

"I was only saying that night time was the most peaceful time of all. You can sleep any time you want."

"But, you're not…technically sleeping."

"Aaah… But you're the only one to know that, aren't you? At least I'm lying down," he says, resting a hand on his face to shield away the sun again. "I've discovered that pretending works quite well too."

When it becomes apparent that he's not going to move—or do anything for that matter—she sits down on the tiles by his side and props her notebook open on her lap. She's brought some paperwork with her and maybe—maybe…—they can try to go through some of it since, technically, he's not actually sleeping.

THE END