Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, or any of the characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.
Cold Hearts, Not Colder Songs
A/N: I love my ship, but I'm practicing writing them together without it being shippy; post-Winter War.
The way he looks at her, it's as if he's been forced to swallow something positively foul. Retsu just smiles, leaning onto the table between them. If she wanted to, she could reach over and touch him. But he'd just behave even worse than this, snapping and brushing her off.
The cups just sit there, light puffs of steam soaring and disappearing. The kettle rests on a small wooden block beside her. It's cold outside, the winter threatening the world with a storm of hail and wind. A fitting time for warm rice wine, even if she only uses it to warm her hands.
He's actually been drinking it.
She comments on the weather, stating that it's a nice change of pace, of scenery. That the pale white pieces, falling from the sky, pleasantly balance out the darkness of the night. He disagrees, says that the chill is just a pain in the ass. Retsu smiles, biting her tongue. One of them has to.
Her eyes don't know where to look, his face split into two planes by opposition. She thinks that, were he to wear the mask in a different fashion, with more light rather than darkness, perhaps his eyes wouldn't look so ominous. She wonders then what tone graces his skin. Something in-tune with a mess of blue.
But that dark gaze, that drowning in malice or perhaps sorrow, is nothing. Too many times Retsu has seen it, the faint precursor to the white face of death.
"Stop wasting your time, woman," he growls. There's dusk in his eyes. She removes the kettle from the table. "And understand that you can't save the goddamned world."
Retsu smiles, though she wants to look away. He seethes, and she knows he hates it, the way she manages to find some good in everything.
"It would seem you're the one who doesn't understand, Captain." She folds her hands into her robes. "There may be cold hearts in the world, but the songs will be warmer if people look for them..."
"Huh..." Mayuri waves a hand at her and looks away. "Think whatever you want."
Her smile grows. She most certainly will.