"I still don't see why I have to be here."
Mayuri Kurotsuchi sits, elbows resting on bent knees, on a gurney inside the 4th Division barracks. His skin is devoid of the deathly makeup and attire, dressed only in the black robes and Captain's haori of his division, the left sleeve rolled up to bare his arm.
The room is gray and smells like her perfume; lilacs and rosewood. Shadows criss-cross on the floors and walls, early sunlight shining through the window behind him.
"I understand that you're a busy man, Captain, but this wound must be treated immediately," Unohana says, turning to him, smiling in a way that makes him quiver with ire. Yellow eyes glare at her, and his lips pull back into a snarl.
"I'm perfectly capable of treating it myself. There was no need to summon me over such a trivial matter."
Unohana quirks her head, dark braid moving with her. She regards him through long, thick lashes, her smile remaining. She's quiet, for a moment, as she snaps on sterile gloves.
When she moves to place her hands upon his arm, he snatches them in his own, one hand easily enclosing her wrists. Their gazes clash in the sunlit room.
"Don't touch me," he growls, in the most dangerous way he can.
Unohana is completely unfazed, but her smile dips, for just a moment. When she opens her eyes to look at him, they're blown open with an emotion he can't place, shining with the light of dawn.
"Don't be ridiculous, Captain. I can't treat that cut if you won't allow me to touch you."
His grip only tightens, and her fingers accidentally brush his palm. He pulls away immediately.
Mayuri looks away and frowns deeply, lowering his head, a lock of blue hair falling into his eyes.
"I can treat this myself. Whatever intentions you had in summoning me here are pointless and unworthy of my time, Captain Unohana," he rises and jerks the sleeve down, blood wetting the cloth as he does. He can't see it, but he knows that smile of hers is gone.
"If you insist," she says, cheerily, and takes the gloves off, remaining where she is; his back is turned to her, and if she wished, she could reach over and touch one hand on his shoulder. She doesn't.
Mayuri grunts and leaves the room, grumbling and cursing under his breath, ignoring the blood which he trails behind him.
When he's completely gone, Unohana sighs and disposes of the gloves, staring at the place he was moments before.
"Better three hours too soon than two hours too late, Mayuri."