just want this out of my system. somewhat inspired by a WolfStar fic entitled "Beyond the Veil" by Atalan. unbeta-ed.
Nanao
Nanao didn't really know when she began to notice it.
Perhaps it was already there since the funeral three months ago, and what kept her from seeing it was how he started tipping his hat lower and lower to cover his only good eye left. She was never able to tell whenever it concerned him, despite the years she had been his lieutenant.
Besides, reading Kyōraku-soutaicho was never her job in the first place.
He never changed in regards to her, and while Nanao was glad for the semblance of normalcy that remained after the war, she began to pick up on some signs that were not previously there—the prolonged silence, grey eye that would stare at an empty space beside him for long moments when he thought she wasn't looking, the hollowed sound of amusement at some Gotei 13 antics, and the carefree smile that no longer reached the eyes. Still, he would give his usual praises of good work to her when she read him reports. Nanao learned long ago that he was actually honest in spite of the exaggeration that tended to accompany them.
But recently, she started to wonder, too, whether Kyōraku-soutaicho was in the same moment as her.
And it wasn't as if somebody other than her could distinguish the Captain Commander apart from Kyōraku Shunsui anymore.
The more Nanao looked closely, the more she could see the former and lesser of the latter.
She never asked where the soutaicho went during his break times since she believed she knew where without asking. She didn't have to be a genius to guess. It was a daily routine that he developed like his afternoon drinking, except in this case the first one was more destructive and something Nanao wouldn't prefer over the other.
Grief.
Nanao failed to grasp the severity of it at the beginning, until she made the mistake of fetching him one time.
There were no tears, as one expected from a grieving person, but she could never forget the haunted look that he had then as he stared down at the inscription of the grave.
Only then did she realized how expertly he was hiding and keeping himself together from falling apart.
When it didn't seem like he noticed her presence, Nanao pretended that she hadn't been there.
The thing was, she could only imagine what he was feeling.
She had her own losses, but she had been too young to let alone remember them.
Funny that this wasn't something she could learn through books.
"Rowdy as ever," Rangiku muttered fondly across Nanao before sipping at her drink. It was the SWA's long awaited celebration after Isane was appointed captain right after the end of the war, but with everything that had to be taken care of, celebrations had to be put last of the priorities.
They weren't alone in their merriment at the pub the SWA usually frequent. On the other end of the pub were the tables where Captain Iba and his clique were situated and had gathered to knock their heads together on some drinking competition. You would think that after one of them made it to the rank of the captain and some promoted to higher seats, they would serve as better role models to their juniors. But then again, that was asking too much of these meatheads.
Nanao's gaze darted to a corner where the new 11th Division 3rd seat was nursing his drink alone, seemingly out of place without his usual bald companion, who, at the moment, was having an intense arm wrestling with Captain Iba that caused the poor table to break in half, much to the distress of the barkeep. 3rd seat Ayasegawa sighed, rolling his eyes at his best friend's antics before smiling privately. As if sensing eyes on him, he turned at Nanao's direction, blinking.
Albeit awkward, she didn't break her stare, nodding his way. She never interacted with him before, but she did recognize him as the most decent person in the Eleventh who at least knew the basic duties of a seated officer. She also appreciated how Ayasegawa was the one to keep the office of his division up and running with the way Captain Zaraki lead his squad and his former and current lieutenant who were just as bad as their captain when it came to paperwork. When Nanao thought about it, 11th Division was never late in their monthly report, probably because of Ayasegawa doing the miracles from the background.
Ayasegawa's lips quirk into a small smile, raising his glass a little towards Nanao in a gesture of a toast. He was in good mood just as most of the people in the pub. Nanao's attention flittered across the table to where Isane's younger sister was sitting beside Rangiku. She was doing much better these days after grieving as much for almost a month. She held Captain Ukitake in a huge amount of reverence that Nanao wasn't surprised how hung up Kiyone had been on his death. Not to mention, she was also present when Captain Ukitake took his last breath. Kiyone took comfort in the knowledge that Captain Ukitake died a hero, giving his life for Soul Society.
If only Kyōraku-soutaicho shared the same view of the events.
Nanao shook her head. She was being unfair to him.
"Is this seat taken, Lieutenant Ise?" a male voice asked beside Nanao after the commotion from the male soul reapers had dwindled down, along with her fellow females in different degrees of drunkenness. There were bound to be complains of hangover tomorrow at SWA meeting, that was for sure. Nanao was thankful not to be the type to overindulge.
Nanao looked up to find Ayasegawa gesturing at the seat to her left, waiting for her reply. She allowed him with a nod, curious as to why she was approached by the 3rd seat. "Ayasegawa."
Ayasegawa situated himself gracefully at the free space, sparing a wary glance Rangiku's unflattering slumped form on the table. "Just as unattractive here, huh," Ayasegawa commented, wrinkling his nose slightly. "It looks like we're both saddled with the same responsibilities tonight." He sighed, but Nanao suspected this wasn't new. If he was friends with Madarame and his usual crowd, it really shouldn't.
Or if, like her, you were a lieutenant of a notorious drunk as well.
"Although I suppose you're quite an expert in handling this kind of situation," Ayasegawa continued conversationally. It occurred to Nanao that she hardly responded to his attempt of small talk.
"More than you know," she agreed. "But not so much now," Nanao added as an afterthought.
Ayasegawa took a few minutes to answer, as if considering something. "You wanted to return to how things were."
"I do."
"Because you don't like the changes," Ayasegawa concluded knowingly. "That's normal, but one way or another, we have to accept them eventually."
Nanao's mind flashed that vacant grey eye that would look far away, like searching somewhere no one else could see. She stopped the thoughts any further before she could dwell on them again.
"I don't like them," she admitted. "I don't like the changes that I see, because whenever I do, I only feel pity, and it's the last thing the person I highly respected deserves."
"Ah. You wish to understand how much it feels." Ayasegawa idly traced the rim of his cup with his finger. "Unfortunately, each handles grief differently." He tilted his head, shrugging before holding Nanao's gaze. "It's alright to pity him, no matter how ugly that sentiment is. But you have to give him more credit than that." Ayasegawa's eyes flitted to the direction he was previously from, landing with no small trace of fondness at Madarame who was already passed out and drooling. "If I lost the person I am willing to break even my principles for, I don't think I could take it beautifully," he said, practically a whisper if not for Nanao's proximity to him.
Of course, Ayasegawa would know, or at least imagine how it was like. Nanao realized that she was looking at centuries worth of friendship and camaraderie between two unlikely individuals. Not as long-standing as what Kyōraku-soutaicho shared with Captain Ukitake, but just as deep and on its path to make it to a millenium.
"As cliché as this sounds, you have to give him time. Depending on what he shared with Captain Ukitake will determine how long it will take Kyōraku-soutaicho to move on."
"What do you mean depending on what he shared?"
Ayasegawa smiled cryptically. "I'm sure you know what I'm talking about."
She would have to think about it again with a clearer mind. She didn't know she was asking for an advice, but maybe Ayasegawa was truly perceptive as they said, probably more than claimed if he could read Nanao first before she could herself. "May I ask what gave me away?"
"When you looked at my way earlier. I know that was a mere short glance, but it was enough to discern that you're here with other than the mood for celebrations. Pardon me for assuming, but you strike me as a fixer, and fixers normally stress over problems that are not their own. With you looking heavily frustrated and heavily confused, I put two and two together and made a conclusion. Although, approaching you was a far leap that I took."
Nanao believed it was more than putting two and two together. Ayasegawa's deduction skill was as terrifying and intriguing as his vanity. She tried not to smile too wide. "That's impressive."
Ayasegawa smirked, basking on the compliment. Nanao wouldn't put it past him. "Don't think too hard and needlessly stress yourself; wrinkles are ugly, Lieutenant Ise," he said as a final advice, making a move to stand. "Now, I have a cue ball to bring home and dump on the floor to make him suffer miserably tomorrow morning. If you'll excuse me."
"Thank you," Nanao felt like saying, eyes softening behind her glasses.
"Anytime."
Shunsui
There wasn't even a body.
According to Kotetsu, Kotsubaki, and a number of people who witnessed Ukitake's sacrifice, his body disintegrated after Mimihagi was forcibly taken out of him. Shunsui wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't personally felt how Ukitake's reiatsu vanished, leaving a sinking feeling of finality.
Ukitake had alluded before that he might not be able to last as long as Shunsui could, his way of preparing his best friend that he held in utmost respect. While Shunsui was easy in his dismissal for every century they went past, it never left his mind either, steeling himself during particularly difficult attacks Ukitake would have now and then.
The battles were entirely different.
Ukitake was a capable man himself, and should his condition get in his way, Shunsui made sure to be there to take Ukitake to safety at first notice.
Shunsui wasn't a religious man, but for every battle he and Ukitake survived together, he would murmur a silent thank you to whatever Kami listening. He eventually learned that Ukitake knew of this habit of his and went so far as to clap his hands together while standing beside Shunsui, giving a small prayer of gratefulness.
After the war, Shunsui found himself standing alone on the wreckage, unable to utter a single word of thankfulness for his and Soul Society's survival.
Shunsui let Nanao handle the preparations of the funeral for the several of the fallen. He recalled her hesitance to ask whether he would personally like to oversee Ukitake's. Shunsui politely refused the offer.
At the day of the funeral, Shunsui was surprised how he could stand straight, with the words from his mouth sounding hollow and a cheap rendition of the short speeches given in commemoration of Ukitake.
It must be because of his attention drawn on the pyre that wasn't burning a body.
It was more difficult on the first evening.
Shunsui left for the Ugendō once Nanao retired for the night. He abandoned his usual pace of trek, opting to walk from the 1st Division to 13th using the deserted streets.
It was only after seeing Ukitake's neatly folded haori sitting on the middle of the room did Shunsui feel the heaviness of losing an integral part of him, a millennium of companionship snuffed out like a candle fire by a strong gust of wind.
He was prepared for this specific moment since the start of the second phase of the war, prepared for this for centuries even, and yet…
There was an ugly twist unlike the initial feeling of emptiness, and suddenly, Shunsui was assaulted with a whole bunch of regrets that existed in the long run despite doing most things together and living without secrets between them.
Who are you kidding? There is always that big one.
Shunsui paid no mind to the female voice that rang, unfolding the haori and inhaling the last vestige of Ukitake's scent of honey and citrus underneath the strong smell of blood. He gripped the cloth tighter as it dampened against his face.
Somehow… somehow, being alone made it easier to let it all out compared to facing a number of people giving their condolences.
He stayed until the first crack of dawn, all the while taking note of the presence outside the doors that hadn't left for more than three hours.
"I do not wish to intrude after I sensed your arrival last night, and I thought I should leave you alone, but…" was Rukia's explanation upon Shunsui's exit. "I'm sorry, Kyōraku-soutaicho."
"Ah, if it isn't Rukia-chan." Shunsui offered a small smile. "Good morning to you too."
Rukia looked up at him, and if she noted his terrible state, she didn't speak of it. Her own eyes were doing a good job of being bloodshot themselves. "Um. Good morning, sir. Apologies for my manners." She reddened a little. "Would you like a cup of tea?"
"Why are you apologizing? I technically broke into your division," Shunsui said wryly. "And, thanks, but there's no need." Shunsui glanced briefly at the sword she was holding on her hand. "Was there something you have to see me for? I could save you the trouble now." His tone took an interesting change at the sight of Ukitake's Zanpakutō that returned to being an asauchi. Again, Rukia refused to note it.
"I was given Captain Ukitake's sword yesterday. I planned to leave it here with his haori, but that was when I noticed that you were in there." She held the asauchi on both hands to Shunsui. "You should keep it, sir."
It should have burned in the pyre along the uniform, Shunsui thought, knowing Ukitake would never part with Sōgyo no Kotowari. He gently pushed Rukia's hand back to herself. "You keep it," he said. "He would have left it to you as sign of good faith and his approval." Shunsui folded back the wrinkled haori tucked on his arm. He had the idea of taking it with him for safe keeping until a new 13th Division Captain would step forward. "Keep this too. You're the one who should be holding on to this."
"Soutaicho…"
Shunsui shook his head, softly insisting, "Take them." He didn't turn away from Rukia, but whether he was looking at her or beyond, she didn't know. "Please."
"Yes, sir." Rukia gingerly took the articles, noticing faintly how incredibly creased the haori was. "I'll store them away safely."
Shunsui didn't know if the hand he put on her shoulder was a means of comfort or support for his own.
"I think I'm done keeping the belongings of dead people."
Sleeping was starting to become a difficulty, of that he was aware.
Shunsui had been sitting in the middle of his bedroom for hours, unable to rest his tired body. Or perhaps he wasn't weary enough yet? Such a waste when the evening was cold with unexpected rain and flashes of lightning, the kind of weather Shunsui secretly loved.
He left with a destination in mind, saké bottle slinging on his hand.
It could still be a pleasant evening.
Shunsui could care less if he was lying on a damp ground with the water pouring harder every hour. His body was numb by cold by then, and he stopped drinking when it tasted more of rain water than alcohol.
If they could help him get proper sleep, he could care less.
Just for tonight, he wanted to keep Ukitake company.
He woke up a few hours later when the rain finally stopped. It was still dark; before sunrise, he guessed. He felt rested enough despite the few aches on his back. Nobody would have thought that he half-heartedly wanted to catch hypothermia.
In spite of that, Shunsui promised to himself that this wouldn't happen again.
But he also knew his tendencies. A part of him believed that one way or another, he would find himself again in the same situation, accidentally or not.
To be safe, the first thing he did that morning was to file a request to build a small gazebo beside the grave.
While Shunsui didn't make habit of sleeping there at night, he made up by dropping by during his breaks and free time that he could get. Being the Captain-Commander ate most of his schedule, but Shunsui made sure to visit at least once a day. He would return to his division at exactly the same time he told Nanao he would be back. After two months of getting used to him keeping his word in regards to this, she would only wait patiently without searching the whole Seireitei for him. She never asked since she was an intelligent woman who must have known since the beginning, trusting that Shunsui would be returning as usual to resume his duties.
During his visits, Shunsui would take notice of the fresh flowers. He learned that each assortment came from different people. But as days become months, the bouquets lessened to the colors of yellow, white, and blue.
Shunsui learned that the yellow came from Kiyone every Wednesday; white from Rukia at Mondays; blue from Sentaro at Fridays. Sometimes, the whites were double their quantity, which Shunsui found out later on was because the half was from Byakuya or Tōshirō.
Shunsui was never there when somebody would pay their respect, and he supposed that was for the best. He wasn't ready to talk about Ukitake and his sacrifices with another person who knew him less. Shunsui was not being fair, but then again he was never known to be one.
Shunsui just didn't want to see the day when flowers would stop adorning Ukitake's grave.
It was ironic that he would feel the weight of it all during the long stretches of silence instead of during the day where he could personally see the running mill that was the soul reapers rebuilding the ruined portions of Soul Society. Shunsui was supported by his own responsibility as the Captain-Commanderwho was leading his men fresh out of war. Unbeknownst to anybody else was his additional pillar that bore the insult he did to Soul Society by asking the assistance of Aizen against Ywhach.
On the last day of the second month, Shunsui dreamt of white hair and smiling lips that called him fondly.
"Kyōraku..."
In a snap, it all came crushing down on Shunsui.
I hate you. I hate that you're cheating your way through the new walls I built. I hate that you suddenly decided to show up when I could finally adjust. I hate you for making me lie to myself that I began moving on. I hate you for not being here. I hate that I need you. I hate you for being the half of me that I lost. I hate that I can't accept that you're gone.
Shunsui's mind was on the verge of exploding at the million things he wanted to spat on Ukitake, and if he stopped now, he would be left with nothing more. There were no tears, and only then it occurred to him that he hardly blinked, standing rigid like a haunted man while he stared down at Ukitake's name.
"I miss you, damn it," was what escaped Shunsui between heaves of air. "I miss you so much."
"Kyōraku, how are you today?"
Shunsui had long learned how to fool even the trained eyes. Being as old as he was, he perfected the art of putting the perfect façade. It used to be a game to him how he was going to be perceived by those around him, allowing him also to classify people into categories. He prided himself on how easily he could put on masks in a blink that even the most perceptive had hard time figuring him out.
And then came Ukitake who could read him like an open book.
With him gone, none would be wiser on the façade Shunsui was keeping up. Not that it mattered now with everybody else's attention diverted and with Shunsui's position that placed him on a level that nobody would dare study the Captain-Commander closely.
"Soutaicho?"
Nanao remained firm on her position even after she told him that she would be turning in for the night.
Shunsui looked up to find her unguarded stance, far from the prim and proper posture she has whenever working for almost all day. "Is there something wrong, Nanao-chan?"
She shook her head. "None, sir."
"If there is, feel free to tell me, alright?"
A stricken look crossed her face then, making way to uncertainty and something akin to… melancholy? "Hey, is everything okay?" Shunsui asked worriedly.
"I should be asking that, sir," she replied, standing straighter. "I know I don't count as a confidant, and I don't know what you're going through, but if you need somebody to listen… I'm here to lend an ear.
"I'm not asking as your lieutenant," she continued, giving a watery smile. "I'm asking as your brother's daughter." Nanao's eyes found the floor first, refusing to see Shunsui's reaction. "If you'll excuse me, sir. Good night."
Seconds ticked by as Shunsui stared at the door Nanao disappeared to, taking the moment to process her words before burying his face on his palms.
Ah, so somebody noticed.
"So how come you can read me so well? You're the only one who can do that, you know?"
Ukitake looked amused, like he was letting Shunsui in an inside joke. "Well, they aren't looking close enough."
The next time Shunsui allowed the unconsciousness to take over, he was overwhelmed with the sensation of being submerged underwater where pressure was sinking him lower and lower to the bottom until he came face to face with a woman sitting cross-legged.
"It's been a while," Shunsui greeted ahead. The fact that Katen Kyōkotsu dragged him to his inner world by herself meant that she was in a terrible mood—which was understandable given how Shunsui has been shutting her away for some time now.
Katen eyed him critically. "I have no time for your behavior today. I brought you here for a good reason since you refused to hear me out."
"How can I be sure that you're not just bored? I have no time for your games too, I'll have you know," he shot back.
"Oh?" There was a glint on her uncovered eye. "So you haven't stopped moping then?" She smirked knowingly when Shunsui's expression briefly darkened. "Poor man."
"Why exactly have you called me here?" he pressed on as his gaze followed Katen's movement as she walked around Shunsui in a circle without hurry.
She shrugged, finally speaking. "They've been insisting on talking to you. Unfortunately, a soul reaper's Zanpakutō couldn't communicate directly to another soul reaper that isn't their owner." She stopped behind him, index finger languidly tracing across his shoulders. "But those time you spent practicing a spiritual link with him must have paid off if they managed to at least reach me."
Shunsui froze at the implication of that statement. She couldn't mean—
"But I can, can't I?" Shunsui despised that lilt in her voice. She snapped her finger, calling, "Come out now."
As if on cue, two figures materialized in front of Shunsui, with forms as short as those of small children, hands linked together in a tight grip.
No, no, no. Even you wouldn't be so cruel to show me shadow plays as intricate as this. He wanted to laugh. Katen was as much as him that he could see himself doing this for his own peace of mind.
Two familiar boys—Sōgyo and Kotowari, as Ukitake had fondly called them—came bounding to Shunsui in utter delight and relief.
"You finally came!" exclaimed the one on the left, Sōgyo.
"We've been trying to talk to you," the other, Kotowari, said.
Shunsui swallowed past the lump in his throat. Sōgyo no Kotowari stood as clear as a day despite seeing Ukitake's asauchi after his funeral. "How are you here?" I thought you died with your master?
Sōgyo no Kotowari might be children in appearance and actions, but they were roughly the same age as Katen Kyōkotsu, possessing the same intellect of somebody who has been around for a thousand years. "We no longer have the connection with our physical form, but we're never gone," Sōgyo said.
"How can we, when Juu-chan is still in the same plane?" Kotowari said.
Shunsui's eye widened. "What do you mean?"
"Juu-chan hasn't moved on to the next level," Sōgyo said with worry.
"Juu-chan couldn't move on and get reincarnated," Kotowari clarified.
Shunsui repressed that dangerous hope blooming in his chest, but he had to know; he had to know whether it was some kind of a miracle or a steep descend to madness. "Is he alive?"
Sōgyo shook his head. "It's not a matter of being dead or alive."
"He's stuck in between, and the scary one-eyed man is there with him," Kotowari added.
"If Juu-chan isn't saved, then he'll be lost forever and will never return to the cycle!"
Shunsui was returned to consciousness with a gasp that only a drowning man could have.
He calmed his breathing, mind reeling through what happened.
It wasn't a dream, and Sōgyo no Kotowari were as real as they could get. They were real and so what they told him.
Ukitake was trapped somewhere, and his Zanpakutō wanted him back from that 'scary one-eyed man'. Mimihagi. Ukitake was somewhere that was considered territory of the Soul King's right hand. Mimihagi's realm.
Ukitake might be trapped in Mimihagi's realm… but did it mean that he wanted to be out?
Shunsui had been told by Ukitake himself long ago what would happen to him should he give his life back to the god. Ukitake was willing to pay the sacrifice since he was old enough to learn the truth of his sickness. If Ukitake was long resolved to offer up his life anytime despite knowing he would also exclude himself from the transition of life and death, the question would be…
Does he even want to escape Mimihagi's realm?
Nanao
Nanao placed a fresh bouquet of daffodils beside the white carnation Rukia brought earlier.
She had hopes of catching the Captain-Commander here alone, outside the First Division where the line between him and her wasn't functioning as a huge, impenetrable wall. Here in front of Captain Ukitake, she was sure that the Captain-Commander wouldn't have any qualms being himself.
Exactly the person she wanted to reach.
"I may have spoken out of turn to him," Nanao said to nobody in particular. She could imagine Captain Ukitake chuckling, telling her that she tended to jump to conclusions easily. He would tell her then that there was nothing she could do that would make Shunsui angry.
"You're too precious to him to get mad at."
Nanao smiled privately. That was exactly what Captain Ukitake would gently say. She would have believed it if Captain Ukitake was here in the flesh, because since he was gone, who knew if the Captain-Commander was still the same man that was Captain Ukitake's best friend.
"Depending on what he shared with Captain Ukitake will determine how long it will take Kyōraku-soutaicho to move on," was what Ayasegawa told her. It was obvious that the two senior captains shared a bond that was nothing short of brotherly, but the way Ayasegawa phrased it… could he be insinuating something else?
"Nanao-chan?"
Nanao tensed before composing herself, giving a slight bow. "Sir."
The Captain-Commander paused beside her without speaking. She heard him sigh before laying a large hand on top of her head. "Back to being formal now, huh?"
Nanao's cheeks felt warm at the childish pats he gave her. She let him anyway, lips quirking into another smile that was hidden from her captain.
She was worrying over nothing then.
"You don't mind, do you?" He shook the saké jug he was holding, plopping down inside the shed. "Would Nanao-chan like some?"
Nanao had to suppress laughing when he cowered under the stern eye she gave him. This, at least, hasn't changed.
"How come you're looking for me?" he asked. He immediately know her purpose.
"I wanted to apologize, sir," Nanao replied honestly, fiddling with her fingers while she sat across him. "I may have stepped over some lines."
"No offense taken," he chirped, waving dismissively. The cheerful act was dropped all of a sudden. "Say, does that mean that offer of lending me an ear no longer stands?"
"No!" she exclaimed, turning away in embarrassment at her volume. "I mean, of course it still is."
"Good." He settled down his saké away, soon joined by his hat. "I may have something to say after all."
Nanao listened, enraptured at how easily the words flowed from him without the aid of alcohol. He admitted to her about the sleepless nights, the one sleep he spent under the frigid rain, the burying of oneself with duties and then breaking down afterwards. Nanao appreciated how open he was being, and the least she could do was pretend not to notice how glassy his eye was and how they occasionally darted to an empty space beside him. Nanao's attention has been on the same spot until he continued.
"Two nights ago, his Zanpakutō visited me."
"But that's impo—"
"I know," he interrupted softly. "But hear me out first."
She could have drowned his voice, practically hearing the spark of hope while he spoke on how Captain Ukitake might still be existing somewhere. She wasn't a fan of false hope—nobody was, for that matter. But she could hardly muster the courage to shut down his idea, because finally, finally, Nanao could see his former self returning just from the prospect of seeing Captain Ukitake again. Was she hoping for too much when she asked for things to turn back to how they were?
Are you never going to be alright?
Nanao's vision blurred as tears clouded her vision unabated. When she sniffed, she was unable to control her sobs, barely paying attention to her captain and no longer caring whether she was hiccupping.
"I don't understand," she managed. "Why are you… why are you…"
"I'm sorry," he murmured, his good eye lowered and lips curved wanly. He simply looked tired. "Love makes the fool out of us."
Nanao shook her head vehemently. "You know you have nothing to apologize for."
"I'm afraid it made the fool out of me too."
Oh.
Love... So that's what it is.
Strange that a single word was all it took for Nanao to understand. Ironic, really, that she was actually the fool to not notice it immediately even if she could watch him closely.
"You love Captain Ukitake the same way my father loved my mother despite knowing her family's curse," Nanao concluded, eyes half-lidded behind her glasses. "Are you two…"
She was surprised by the laugh that he gave. "No, nothing like that." Too late for that, Nanao could almost hear unsaid. "We never were. I doubt he even knows. Never told him," he said somberly. "If I get this one chance, I might."
I'm naïve… naïve and blind, she thought, guiltily brushing her eyes. He obviously made up his mind already, with or without her aid.
What kind of lieutenant was she if she was going to leave her captain alone now, leaving this man with a solid resolve?
"Would you like me to take a trip to the Library, sir?"