Hi guys! For those of you who don't know me, I'm Shunkaida ByaSaJu Yukish (Any shortenning of that name is cemmendable and I encourage your creativness!)

This fic was written for my best friend who plays the role of Sakura Otazu, so she's only half mine if at all.

Sadly the only characters who belong to me are the twins mentioned.

I would like to thank my beta Taijiya Mizu for making this fic possible and the beautiful substances or chocolate and friendship.

Without further ado I give you

Lonely Hearts

Jushiro Ukitake stacked the paperwork and wordlessly handed it over to his boss Shunsui Kyoraku. He had been told before he took that job that the man was a flirtatious, lazy drunkard who had only gotten his job through his wealth as the son of the head honcho Yamamoto. It was true that he was the son of Yamamoto, but despite having the reputation he did, Shunsui was really a very hard working man when he tried. Jushiro was glad that he could make the busy man's life easier by helping him with the paperwork and making sure he was presentable before he entered his meetings.

A rumour had come to his attention during a relaxing lunchbreak that some of the other people in the large business believed his and Shunsui's relationship was much more than just a close-nit friendship developed quickly between a boss and his assistant but that it was one of love. Jushiro had shaken it off with a laugh and a kind smile, informing them that he had twin sons that his life was devoted to; whilst Shunsui had gotten rather mad and fired someone for implying such a relationship would ever happen. They had all remained silent and left the pair alone as the weeks turned into months, and they still had no evidence that their superiors were more involved than just being good friends. It wasn't that there was no evidence to fuel the fire, it was just that it wasn't seen outside of the office door.

It was well known that Jushiro was ill of health and despite that, he had done no more than have minor coughing fits that could have easily been passed off as a frog in the throat or a bad cold on the mend. Shunsui was the only one who had seen the full brunt of his friend's illness. on one such occasion, Jushiro had arrived at work a little paler than usual only to reach for a high file and then collapse as his body convulsed and blood worked its way up his throat and onto the rich red carpet at his feet, staining his clothes and leaving him gasping for air more desperately than a parched man for water.

He tried not to have too many days off, but that didn't stop Shunsui having a couch put in next to the bookshelf in their office so that Jushiro could rest after an attack or before one hit. One day, nearly a year into his services as Shunsui's little helper, Jushiro stumbled across a small library in the suburb where he and his sons were living when he had to take another route home due to construction. It was still open, so he pulled up and walked inside, taking in the warm motherly feel of the place.

He walked around, browsing the shelves, and picking up a book, he read the blurb silently to himself, not noticing the shape as it came up and stopped beside him. A light cough interrupted him a word from the bottom, and he turned to face the intruder, taken aback by the woman before him.

The only word he could think of to describe her was beautiful. He overlooked the electric wheelchair in which she sat and lost himself in the kindness of her intelligent blue eyes set so perfectly in her round face. She had reddish brown hair cut short for easier care and a smile that could no doubt brighten the darkest of rooms as she waited for him to pull himself back together.

It came to his attention that he was staring a little too late, and he blushed shyly and gestured to the book he was holding. She nodded and led him to the front counter where she explained to him in an enchanting voice where to sign for a membership card for the library.

With a smile and a nod, he slid the book through the hole in the counter made especially for her, and with her eyes flickering between him and the computer screen, she casually asked, "Did you just move here?"

It took him a couple of seconds to respond to her question, and he swallowed several times before he located his voice somewhere in the depths of his failing body and answered, "Not really, I moved here nearly a year ago with my twin sons after my wife died."

She apologised, and he shook his head, white hair framing his face as it fell about his shoulders.

She beamed at him, and his legs turned to jelly. Leaning against the counter for support, he asked somewhat shyly, "What about you? I don't mean to pry or anything." He added the last part quickly to which she just smiled and told him she was living with her parents.

They talked for a bit about casual things, and realising the time, he bid her good night and hurried home.

He knew for sure than even if he didn't have to return the book, he would have come back anyway, just to see and hear her voice again to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

He drove home in a daze, the books on his passenger seat the only thing reminding him of what he had just stumbled upon.

What do you think? Please review!