2. Sex, Drugs, and Cats. Not Necessarily in that Order or Combination.
Slowly, so very slowly, he lets his reiatsu slide across the cat's fur, gliding deeper until he covers every single hair down to its skin. The cat is deeply asleep, completely paralyzed from the drugs he had fed it with its daily milk.
Sadly, the cat's physical body didn't make it through the sliding doors, but at least the broken soul-link vanished. Now, he has an intact black cat-soul with eyes as yellow as the ones of his goddess. Speaking of his goddess – she took a liking to the cat instantly, petting it for hours at a time while doing her paperwork. Soi Fong has already mentioned that she is jealous.
To his great regret, Captain Commander Yamamoto didn't allow him to make the cat his vice-captain. But, just like he expected, the cat has managed to worm its presence into the hearts of most members of the twelfth division. By now, the cat is treated even better than his vice-captain, although it still doesn't have a name. It simply is 'The Cat'. He has to be very careful that none of his officers or his goddess sees him drug The Cat.
Just like with his goddess, he isn't satisfied with trailing his reiatsu only across skin. That is the reason why he has drugged the cat; he wants to have the time to explore, which he doesn't have with his goddess. Slowly, his reiatsu trickles into a tiny, black nose, exploring the differences between human and cat anatomy. His awareness slides across a strangely folded olfactory epithelium, feeling the microscopic branches that allow for a slightly better sense of smell than in a human.
He follows the air down into the cat's lungs, feeling where the skin is so thin that oxygen and carbon dioxide can pass through veins into air. Every breath of the cat pulls and expands those thin membranes, and then lets them deflate once again. A whole universe of tiny bubbles at the end of thicker tubes is there for his exploration. It feels like the insides of a bubble-tree that constantly weaves in the air.
Gradually, over the weeks and months, he has become as familiar with the cat's body as he has become with his goddess. He can pour and mould himself into and onto them with hardly a thought now and without disturbing them in their sleep. Of course, as drugged as the cat is, not even cutting open its belly with a blunt knife would wake it up, but his goddess is a different matter. It takes hardly a thought anymore, and he can feel the intimate workings of her lungs, her ear-drums, her uterus.
But somehow, it is not enough anymore. It is no longer enough to study her from without and within; he wants to be even farther inside. He wants to see how her muscles twitch, how her organs work in symphony, how her bones carry her body, and, not least of all, how her reiatsu is so deeply interwoven with her life. He wants to see if he can find something that is life itself.
That is why he comes back to the cat, time and again.
The cat is less complicated than a human, and humans are less complicated than shinigami. Even in the case that he accidentally injures the cat, his medical skills are more than enough to heal it again. And as an added bonus, the cat doesn't get regular health check-ups from the fourth division. They would discover drug residue and strange scars on the cat.
As it is, nobody is the wiser, and he can continue exploring the cat.
Applying his knowledge from the cat to his goddess sounds easier than it is. He has studied the cat inside out, snooped into its brain, flowed through its veins. He knows how its bones are connected at the joints, how its muscles work to move its body, how its nerves gather and distribute information.
His work with the cat has helped a lot with his work with the gigai. Now, he doesn't only know that the current method to produce gigai works, he also knows why. His special gigai works so well, in fact, that he almost can't feel the difference anymore. Almost, because he still doesn't know how reiatsu interacts with the body.
That is the big mystery; the mystery that draws him back to his goddess again and again.
As nice as it is to feel his reiatsu sink into the skin of the cat, it isn't the cat he wants to do this with. He wants to sink into his goddess; truly become one with her. But there is one major problem that hinders his explorations: her reiatsu.
Of course, her reiatsu has grown so used to his that it doesn't protest any surface explorations anymore, but it is always there when he tries to go deeper. The farthest down he has come is the first two layers of her skin, and how magnificent those layers had been! Fields of dead and living cells, fountains of sweat glands, forests of hairs, and of course, rivers of capillaries. He had almost been able to touch the first of the nerve endings…
At that instant, her reiatsu had stopped him, throwing him out of her skin and waking her up. He can still feel the resulting smack across his head, reinforced by shunpo.
He has tried it again several times, but every time, her reiatsu interferes. To his consternation, he cannot practice with the cat because it doesn't have any reiatsu. There is no resistance to him sinking into its skin.
Then, he has a brilliant idea. What if he tries to sink into his own skin?
He begins the way he has begun with his goddess and the cat, letting his reiatsu spread across his skin. That is where the first, and most obvious, problem comes forth. His reiatsu simply doesn't recognize the border of his own skin. He thinks it is because there is more of his reiatsu inside him than outside, so the exploratory tendrils only melt back into the pool instead of spreading against his skin.
In short, experimenting with himself gains him no new insights.
After several more days of studying the cat inside and out, he sees only one way. He has to ask his goddess for her active help.
He has never been one to hide the fact that he also experiments with living and breathing bodies, but he likes to think of himself as considerably more tactful than his fourth seat, a complete nutcase named Kurotsuchi. So, instead of inviting his goddess to be dissected for the sake of science – with as little pain as possible, of course – he flashes her his most salacious grin and suggests a bout of very, very kinky sex.
Her response isn't much better than the one Kurotsuchi would have gotten.
He flees a hail of sandals, ink-pots, and paper-weights, seasoned by juicy epithets. Maybe he should have waited until she is done with her paperwork. She always gets irritable when she has to sign mountains of orders, bills, and training schedules.
Maybe he also should have waited for Soi Fong to leave her side first.
It is no secret amongst the higher ranks of the Gotei Thirteen that he and the Goddess of Flash are more than childhood buddies, and almost everybody in second and twelfth division knows it for a fact. But, he suspects hearing it out loud and in person is something else than just knowing about it. At least, judging by Soi Fong's facial color, it is.
For three whole days, he doesn't dare approach his goddess again, letting her anger burn itself out. On the fourth evening, she shows up in his quarters wearing a very skimpy yukata beneath an ankle-length haori. Her family would be scandalized. A second and third glance at her figure reveals that it is even skimpier than her regular combat outfit – no small feat.
She stalks towards him, just like the cat he has studied so much, and purrs. "Now, what was that about very, very kinky sex?"
Take that, Kurotsuchi, he cheers inwardly. With a leer, he hands her a saucer of sake. "Drink up, my little kitty-cat."
She carefully sniffs at the liquid and frowns. "There's something else in there besides sake, isn't there?"
"Yup." he grins so broadly that his eyes close. "That's why I called it kinky sex, not drunken sex."
"And you're not going to tell me what it is?"
"Nope! Otherwise, it wouldn't be very, very kinky sex, but only kinky sex!"
Just like the cat, curiosity gets the best of her.
In one big gulp, she downs the sake and draws a grimace. "Just what the hell did you mix in there?"
"Not telling you! But I think you should come here because your legs are going to feel weak really soon." He hands her a cup of plain water. "That's clean; for the aftertaste. And I don't want to drug myself by kissing you."
She glowers at him, more mock than not, but there is a real part of a threat in it. Sipping the water, she sinks onto the futon next to him, her nose inches from his. "If I don't like what you're doing, you will have some very…exciting training days the next few weeks. Understood?"
Her breath smells slightly of sake, and he decides that she has drunk enough water to get rid of the drug residues in her mouth. He absently voices something like "Mhm" while he hunts after her taste combined with the sake. It should take ten, maybe fifteen minutes for the drug to take full effect, and there are better ways to spend that time than waiting.
Gradually, she becomes more excited, but also heavier in his arms. Before long, he lets her sink to the futon and helps her arrange her limbs comfortably as she doesn't have the strength to do so anymore.
"Wh't di' ye doo t' me," she slurs through unresponsive muscles. There is a mixture of anxiety and excitement in her eyes, but he knows that it could easily turn into fear and panic if he doesn't do some explaining soon.
"Well," he begins, taking care not to be so close to her as to be threatening, "the drug I gave you is a heavy muscle relaxant. Your consciousness, your reiatsu control, and your ability to perceive sensations shouldn't be influenced by it. Kind of like a full-body bakudou. Since you will be completely paralyzed in a few minutes, try signaling me with your reiatsu. One flare for yes, go on explaining; two flares for no, give me the antidote."
There is a long pause between them, so long that he starts wondering if he hasn't made a mistake on the drug composition and dose. Then, finally, a single flare.
"Thank you." He smiles his special, blinding smile that he has reserved only for her. "You don't feel numb anywhere, do you?"
A double-flare.
"Any pain?"
Another double-flare, more impatient now.
He smirks. "My, my. Are you getting impatient on me?"
A very strong "yes."
"Very good, very good," he nods to himself. Without hesitation, he reaches towards the sash that holds her flimsy yukata closed and slowly unknots it. Like an onion, he unwraps her layer for layer. First the haori, then the sash, then the yukata, then…
He raises an eyebrow and looks at her. "Very impatient, ne?"
Her cheeks color slightly under his stare, accompanied by a slow flare of her reiatsu.
Turning his smile into a warm, encouraging one, he finally comes to the point of the whole exercise. "Let me show you what I've been practicing," he purrs.
He knows that she must wonder why he is sitting back, refusing to touch her, but the lack of body contact actually makes concentrating easier for him. It will be hard enough to get past her conscious reiatsu without being tempted by her body, too.
Slowly, he starts pouring his power over her, moulding his microscopic touch against the bare skin of her stomach. Judging by the sudden pulse in her reiatsu, she has definitely felt that.
He continues his explanation. "I'm trying to touch your skin with my reiatsu. If you flare yours, you will dislodge me and break my control. As long as you are paralyzed, which should be about thirty or forty more minutes, this is the only thing I'm going to do. All I ask of you is to try and hold your reiatsu in check so that you don't block me. Should you feel overwhelmed or uncomfortable, you just have to flare it and you'll be rid of my touch. Since I use so little energy, I won't be able to hurt you when you flare yours, no matter where my reiatsu is. May I go on?"
He can practically feel her pondering his words. It doesn't take long, though, for her to flare her reiatsu slightly. His smile practically splits his face in half as he leans over to pat her shin. Then he settles back against the wall and concentrates for real this time.
