Oh Kami, this took so much longer than I anticipated! I lost my flash drive (affectionately named GIN, thankyaverymuch) and thus have been alternating between panic attacks and general urges to give up. Yet I have perservered (looks like it has 'pervert' in it -gigglesnort-) and found the little darling! And, as many fanfiction writers go, I felt the crazed need to post this thing as soon as I had it done. Regrettably, it may have some mistakes and therefore I promise that I will find a beta before the third chapter!

Mistakes aside, I am fairly excited for this chapter. I get to put Ukitake in and coma!Ulquiorra. What could be better? And as a side note, the third chapter is when the stories start to come together and all the happy drama-ness gets to come out. Fun times for everyone!

Also, I'm probably going to be changing around some pairings in this. I mean, there's going to be some change-ups during the duration of the story as well as just plain change-ups for my whim and muse. Hwaha! My problem now is finding a good pairing to publish this under. That proves to be difficult!

Anyways, before I let you off to read the chapter, I shall publish my personal soundtrack that kept me fueled. I'm predicting I'll be doing this in the future for all you Project Playlist users so that you can read along to some music that fits. I'm not saying this chapter will fit the music. It was my muse. XP

Soundtrack

A Gorey Demise - Creature Feature (on a side note, I can totally see Shinigami-Gin singing this!)
Let It Rock - Kevin Rudolf
Jai Ho - A.R. Rahman
Music Box - Thrice

And now onto the chappy and away from this obscenely long author's note!


Deus Ex Caduceus

02 - Of Love and Coffee


Long nights typically started the same for Juushiro Ukitake. If his night began with something wrong, it guaranteed a prolonged duration of work, balanced between numerous papers to fill out down to more patient visits than he could take in any twelve-hour interval of time. However, the doctor was known for his unending well of patience that was true of him down to the core of his being. As a child, a chronic illness had taught him the ways of patience. The coughing would eventually stop, but you had to wait. The medication would come, just not yet. After almost twenty-five years of that, he knew patience better than anyone he worked with. A human patient has the word right there, tagged to their name. For that, a good lesson was to be learned.

However, one thing that his illness hadn't taught him was how to deal with romance. He had been so used to nurses around him that he had never realized what they looked like or what it was like being around them. They were just there. When he finally entered the workplace of his choosing, his world had been turned upside-down fully by one woman; Retsu Unohana.

The woman should have been a saint at birth, what with patience that matched his, a kind demeanor, a self-sacrificial spirit that even some religious leaders couldn't achieve, and the most beautiful face Ukitake had ever seen. The faceless, nameless nurses of his past were erased the second he saw her roaming the halls of the hospital. At first, he thought she was some sort of angel of mercy, roaming the halls to look for one who needed her. Then he saw her name embroidered onto a starchy labcoat and he was stunned to realize that she was human.

Her name and status was soon made known to him through whispers through the hospital. She worked in physical rehab, ocaisonally going to the maternity ward to assist some nurses there and sometimes going to the children's hospital when she had the time. She was a jack-of-all-trades when it came down to it. Exquisitely educated and gorgeous to top it off, Retsu Unohana was a goddess.

Yet years of isolation and pain kept Ukitake at by, shying away from her if she came too close. It irked him that he was such a coward. Before he knew it, years went by and the two had scarcely exchanged a word. They brushed by each other everyday and communication was never established. He called it cowardice and he wondered if she thought it the same.

Miracles came rare to the ivory-haired doctor and he learned not to expect them. In fact, he had been told by dozens of doctors over the years that he probably wouldn't live to see his twenties. A singular miracle happened in which the illness had completely dissipated from his lungs. Beyond that, he counted every blessing. Nevertheless, another miracle occurred on one such prolonged night. Retsu Unohana talked to him.

It was an unexpected series of events. First, a ten-car pileup happened, earning the hospital four new patients, two of which were foreigners. Ukitake made his rounds quickly, visiting the radiology lab, the neurosurgery operating rooms, the emergency floor, and finally rehab to establish a place for the two who were certain to survive. He had talked to a pretty young nurse with odd silvery hair who gladly made places for the two. Suddenly, he smelled something unique enter the room—something fragrant and musky but warm. He turned slowly to see Retsu standing there, glorious and saintly in every way with warm eyes that regarded him with the same sweet mien that she gave her patients.

"Dr. Ukitake, what a surprise," she said in her musical voice, the pitch reaching its own individual crests and troughs as though the sentence was an orchestrated piece in itself.

"Oh, hello Dr. Unohana," he managed, trying to keep his composure. He straightened his back and forced a professional smile, concealing his true feelings—which possibly would have forced him on his knees, admitting every feeling of attraction he had ever felt for her.

"What brings you here if I may ask?"

"We've had a rather unfortunate emergency. There are four patients from a ten-car pileup, two of which are in critical condition. The other two will recover but need physical rehabilitation. I was setting up their stay here for when the time comes."

Sympathy colored itself onto Retsu's face, creasing her brow with worry and causing her eyes to be a well of sorrow. Ukitake felt his heart jerk a little at the sight and all he wanted to do was hold her and take that sadness away. What more, he was amazed that no matter how many patients she had, she could still feel something for each and every one of them. It astounded him completely and he found his schoolboy-like crush on her growing. It was as though all those years he had spent away from a normal life were making themselves up in his adult years.

"How awful," she said quietly, brushing away some stray raven hair that had loosened itself from the long braid going down her back. "Thank you Dr. Ukitake for doing this ahead of time. I pray that the other two will be fortunate as well."

Miracles don't happen often, a voice echoed in his head. You were just unexplainably lucky.

"Thank you as well Dr. Unohana. I'm sure the two recovering patients will do well in your care when they arrive."

She nodded at him and turned to the silver-haired nurse. "Isane, would you please take over the clinic for an hour? I have to make my rounds now."

The girl, Isane, bowed her head. "Of course Dr. Unohana. I'll page you if anything comes up."

Retsu walked away with a long elegant gait that hypnotized Ukitake for a moment. He watched after her for a while before Isane cleared her throat audibly. "Is there anything else you need Dr. Ukitake?"

He jerked his head up and found himself blushing and he prayed it was unperceivable. "N-no Isane-san, thank you very much."

He turned to leave the room until she cleared her throat once more. He peered back at her to find the girl staring down at the floor, biting her bottom lip. She raised her warm gray eyes, an expression of nervousness but slyness apparent on her face. "You know Dr. Ukitake, Dr. Unohana isn't married."

Ukitake gawked at her, jaw going slack. "W-what's that supposed to mean?"

"She's single too," Isane added without missing a beat.

A prolonged moment of silence passed between them before Ukitake managed a small grin. "Really?"

Isane sighed in relief that she didn't overstep any boundaries and nodded in affirmation. "Yes, and I've been trying to hook her up for ages."

Ukitake snorted and turned back to his original destination. He waved at the nurse once as he strode away. "Thank you Isane-san, I'll keep that in mind."

The moment he was safely out of the rehab clinic, Ukitake couldn't help but grin like a maniac. Sure, he admitted he had a schoolboy crush on Retsu, but he now was ecstatic about it. At least he knew he stood a chance. He ambulated back to his office, swaying himself to a song only he could hear and hoping that no one witnessed him for fear of having everyone think that a mentally incompetent man was working in a first-class hospital.


"Foxy-chan!" The exclamation was accompanied by a firm thwack to the head that resulted in Gin pawing at his face and groaning. He cracked open one eye to see a blurry pink shape across from him. He then glanced down to see a tongue depressor resting on his lap and he couldn't help but laugh. Yachiru was the best alarm clock there was.

"Nnn… Mornin' Yachiru-chan," he yawned, reaching up and grabbing air to stretch.

"Not mornin' foxy-chan!" Yachiru protested loudly, pointing out a window to the sable outside world. "'s dark out!"

Gin finished his stretch and grinned at her. "It's mornin' for me Yachiru-chan."

"You are silly," she stated in her most adult-sounding voice, which wasn't too terribly convincing as her voice was so squeaky anyways.

The pediatrician stood up and stretched each leg out at a time, walking over to her bed and handing her the tongue depressor. He ruffled her hair playfully before reaching over to take her chart off the wall. "Alrighty Yachiru-chan, let's see how you're doin' today."

"No icky-choky," she said firmly, holding up the tongue depressor and shaking her head.

He laughed and took a pen from the pocket of his labcoat. "No, not yet. Now, how're ya feelin' today?"

"Good!" she chirped happily, twirling the depressor in her hand while looking around the room. "My tummy don't hurt today and my fwoat don't hurt."

"That's good," Gin replied, writing what she said on the chart. He set the chart aside and took his stethoscope off from around his neck. "Okay Yachiru-chan, lean forward."

"Okie dokie!" she said, doing just as he said. He put the diaphragm on her back and she took a deep breath in, holding it just long enough before slowly letting it out. He moved the piece around more, checking each lung and the sounds of arterial flow.

When he finished, he placed the stethoscope back around his neck and wrote his observations on the chart, grinning at her. "You seem to be pretty good today Yachiru-chan. One of the nurses'll come in later and check the rest of ya, okay?"

"Aw, okay foxy-chan," Yachiru said, looking a little crestfallen.

Gin cocked his head and let a rare frown cross his features. "What's wrong?"

She fiddled with the depressor and stuck out her bottom lip. "Yer goin' away."

"I'll still be here silly," he said, ruffling her hair again.

"No, not here," she stressed.

Gin stood there for a moment and smiled. "How about this; before I leave, I'll say bye to ya?"

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Okay!" she chirped once more, slumping back onto her pillow and pulling her bed sheet up to her nose, large brown eyes looking up at him. "You come back later."

"Absolutely," he responded, grinning at her. She smiled and closed her eyes, nestling into the sheets once more. He smiled gently and turned off the overhead light to give her a better sleeping atmosphere. Once he was sure she was asleep, he walked out in the hallway to his office.

"U-um, Dr. Ichimaru," a quiet voice murmured behind him.

Gin turned around and saw a tired-looking blond man standing by the doors leading into the parking lot, a black backpack slung over one shoulder and a gray hoodie pulled loosely over navy blue scrubs. The pediatrician grinned and waved. "Hey Kira-kun, yer just on time!"

Kira smiled and yawned, scratching at his head. "I thought I was going to be late. Traffic was pretty bad getting here."

"Ah, no problem. Anywho, I'm gonna be in my office if ya need me. I did the rounds already so all you gotta do is yer job and we're all set for the night."

Kira inclined his head as a form of a tired bow and continued down the hall to the break room to put his things in his locker. Gin watched him walk off and smiled. Kira was a good kid, no doubt. He was always on time, did every job efficiently and correctly, and had a relatively good attitude. Sure, he always appeared tired and maybe a little diluted in how he held himself, but once he had a task, he did it with skill and a much brighter demeanor. It was a bit perplexing but Gin liked the blond anyways. He was fun to watch while he worked at least. Kids liked him just about as much as they liked the main pediatrician. Gin guessed it was because of his shocking blond hair and oceanic blue eyes. He was an oddity and the kids adored it. As the silver-haired man figured, anything mundane wasn't welcome in a children's hospital. Anything vibrant, however, was accepted the second it was sighted. Kira was one of those vibrant things.

Trusting that the blond would do a good job, Gin settled into his office and turned on his computer, leaning back as the machine whirred to life. It had been one of the few days where life had seemed to slow down. Normally, Gin's workday was a whirlwind of check-ups, monitoring, simple medical procedures, talking to concerned parents, and filling out mountains of paperwork. Today just seemed more mellow. There were very few parents in at the hour and those who were there were handled by other pediatricians.

The silver-haired man appreciated the random break and took to it by putting his feet up on his desk and idly watching his computer screen run through its normal functions to get to the desktop. While waiting, his eyes drifted around the room from a potted philodendron growing on the top of his bookshelf to a wall scroll depicting Inari running through a field with his fox messengers. He couldn't remember the last time he had made an effort to decorate. The office looked like the polar opposite of his home at least, sans the wall scroll. While the office was clean and organized, his home was a wreck. That's what he got for being single and working the night shift. That house was for sleeping in only.

His thoughts were interrupted when a tinny arpeggio informed him that the computer was up and running. Taking his feet off the desk, he leaned forward and clicked one of the tiny icons on the desktop, ironically it being one of a little fox surrounding a globe. The internet sprang into view and he quickly typed in the address to the hospital website, wasting no time in logging in and going straight to his mail.

"Trash, trash, trash, lunch invite, trash…" he murmured to himself, half-heartedly scrolling through the contents. "Never interestin'," he finally said, deleting all the trash and clicking out of his mail. He went to the patient information site and looked at the roster for the children's hospital. The patient listing had remained about the same with only one or two changes. Two kids had gone home in the last three days and were replaced with one more. One child had gone into surgery (which, Gin noted, went very well) and another was scheduled to be moved into recovery by the end of the week. It was just an average roster that Gin already knew by heart.

Out of sheer curiosity—maybe boredom—he clicked over to the hospital staff news, wondering if anything interesting had happened in the past few days. His pager had gone off earlier in the day with a message meant for the operating room staff. It had seemed urgent enough to go all the way down to his floor, so perhaps there was some big deal that he hadn't caught.

Of course, there was nothing terribly interesting there either. Patient news was classified to respective departments. The only news he could see was that off new residency programs and a few physicians joining departments. Gin sighed and clicked off that as well, leaning back in his chair and rubbing the bridge of his nose. As he relaxed, his pager beeped and vibrated against his desk, jolting him up. He grabbed it and tapped the 'receive' button

Ichimaru G. to Anesthesia

"Oh," he said to no one in particular. Standing up, he put the pager back in his pocket, reaching over and shutting his computer down. He had long ago dropped the need to ask 'why?', giving way to solid acceptance of whatever came.


"I-chi-gooooo!" a loud voice screeched before a loud 'thunkthunkthunk' was heard. Ichigo Kurosaki arched an eyebrow and peeked out his bedroom door just in time to see a blur of black and white fly at him. He quickly closed the door, a 'WHAM' resounding through the wood. He reopened the door to see a crumpled, half-dressed man on the floor, clutching his head with one hand and giving a thumbs-up with the other. "Good job my son! Your reaction time is getting much better!"

"Or you're just losing more brain cells," Ichigo replied offhandedly, rolling his eyes and picking a messenger back up off the back of the chair in front of his desk. "Now let's go before Yuzu and Karin think we forgot about them."

Isshin Kurosaki, now recovering from certain head trauma, leaped up and grinned widely. "Of course! Now d'ya know where my labcoat is?"

"Probably still in the laundry basket."

"Why would it be in there?"

"You spilled tomato sauce on it last night."

"I did?"

"Followed by nacho cheese."

"Really?"

"And you spilled an entire bottle of red wine on it."

"…That explains it."

Ichigo brushed past his father and went into the office at the end of the hall. He dug into a closet there and pulled out a clean labcoat, walking back out and handing it to Isshin. "Here's a clean one. Now can we go already?"

Isshin slid the labcoat on and glanced at his son, a cheesy smile covering his face. "What's the rush? We got time."

Ichigo crossed his arms and stuck out his jaw a little. "Nothing. I just want to make it to the hospital on time today."

"You make it on time everyday."

"Do you want me to drive?"

The older man's eyes widened and he grew pale. "No! We'll go!" He flew downstairs and grabbed a ring of car keys and some sunglasses, glancing up the stairs at his son who was looking at him as though he was a total maniac, which wasn't far from the truth.

"I don't get what's so special about your stinkin' car."

"Don't talk about Rebecca like that!"

"You named it? Seriously?" the orange-haired boy asked, walking down the stairs.

"She's a lady and she needs a proper name," Isshin replied, opening the front door and gazing longingly at the cobalt blue Mustang parked in the driveway. Black racing stripes lined the hood and the silver rims glinted at him like stars on a dark night. He couldn't help but sigh. "Ohhh…"

Ichigo went by him once again, eyes narrowed and defiant as usual. He yanked one of the doors open and got it, slamming it shut. He poked his head out the window up at his father. "Come on old man! Quit gettin' off to your car!"

"You shouldn't have slammed her doors like that! She's insulted!"

"It's a car!"

Isshin stuck out his bottom lip sadly as he closed the front door behind him. He walked up to the Mustang and lovingly stroked the hood, despite the fact the metal seemed hotter than magma under his hands. "Aw, who's a pwetty widdle girl, huh? Who's my sweet widdle Becky?" he cooed.

The orange-haired boy snarled and slammed his hand on the horn, jolting his father out of his car-lusting reverie. "Dad, would you move it?"

Isshin sniffled and opened the door, looking dejected. "You didn't have to hit her so hard Ichigo."

"If you don't get this thing running in ten seconds, I'm going to have to commit patricide."

Isshin didn't say another word as he put the key in the ignition. As he backed out of the driveway, he sighed. "Oh Masaki, if you could just see the ungrateful whelp our son has become."

"Patricide if you don't get down to the traffic light in five seconds."

Needless to say, Isshin was plenty thankful there were no police officers around. He sped down a series of labyrinthine streets until he reached the front of a bustling high school. Waiting near a bench by the curb were two girls—a blonde and a brunette. The brunette rolled her eyes and stormed to Ichigo's side as he stepped out, moving the passenger seat forward so she could get in. She looked up at him and the side of her mouth went up in a sarcastic smirk. "Did the old man drool too long over the car?"

"Yes," Ichigo growled. He looked over at the blonde. "Ne, Yuzu, are you getting in?"

"Ah, yes Ichi-nii!" Yuzu chirped. She leapt into the car after her sister and slid against the leather interior, folding herself a little so Ichigo could put the seat back. He got back in and put his seatbelt on.

"To the hospital!" Isshin happily regaled, his voice reminiscent of a war officer shouting for a 'charge'. He all but stomped on the accelerator, sending the car flying down the road before either of the sisters could properly get their bearings. Ichigo clawed at the leather interior, eyes wide. He couldn't even get a proper sentence out before the looming silhouette of the hospital caught his vision.

Isshin pulled the car to the doors leading in to the main lobby not far from the burn center and the ER. He gave a thumbs up to his son. "See you in a few hours Ichigo!"

Ichigo got out of the car and sighed. "I'd rather walk."

His father pulled on his saddest face, eyes visibly watering with forced tears. "Y-you're ashamed to be seen near me, aren't you?"

"Not a surprise, goat-face," Karin murmured from the back seat.

Isshin whirled around to face his dark-haired daughter, now crying and wiping a trail of mucus from his nose. "K-Karin! That was so harsh!"

She crossed her arms and roughly kicked the back of his seat, leaving a firm gray scuffmark on the leather. "Just drive. If Ichigo needs us, he'll call."

"You scuffed Becky's sexy leather interior!" Isshin said mournfully.

"Never say those words in that order ever again," Karin replied.

"Bye," Ichigo said, banging on the hood of the car to get his father's attention.

"Why are all of you being so abusive to Becky?"

Yuzu's eyes began to water as well and she leaned forward, tiny hands drawn to her chest and head thrust forward. "I didn't do anything daddy!"

Isshin sniffed and pat Yuzu on the head. "I know, and that's why Yuzu is my favorite! Mother would be so proud of you!"

Ichigo finally just rolled his eyes and walked inside, leaving the car full of dorks out where he couldn't hear them (thank the gods). Once the automatic doors had slid shut behind him, he let out a sigh of relief and raked a hand through his fiery orange hair. He stood still in the lobby, glancing around. There were several people mulling about. Some were in scrubs and some were in regular civilian clothing. However, he was only looking for one person. Hopefully she hadn't gone home already.

He looked around once more before letting out a defeated sigh. Schedules always seemed to conflict for him. He went to the residency program at the burn center from three until ten when his father would pick him up, drop him off at home, and then go work at the night shift. This caused chaos in the Kurosaki household that had been maintained ever since the loss of Ichigo's mother. Masaki Kurosaki had been the gods-given balance in her home, being the queen of scheduling. She had once worked alongside Isshin in their college days and they had hooked up merely because she found time in both of their schedules for dates. Ichigo wished he had inherited that talent.

However, now was not the time to dwell. He lacked a car to aid in the three-kid-shuffle that Isshin subjected himself to, so any complaint on his part felt more like an act of hypocrisy since he lacked the ability and materials to help. Of course, he felt guilty and somewhat frustrated, often going to the program in a foul mood that he vented with his temper. Yet that was finally extinguished the day that Rukia Kuchiki had entered the program as well. Ichigo knew full well of her relations in the hospital. He feared striking a friendship with her lest a certain affluent neurosurgeon decide that Ichigo was the perfect guinea pig for demonstrating the long-ago practice of a lobotomy.

Rukia, however, had not feared her brother in the least bit. Instead, she had become like a magnet to Ichigo's side while their schedules ran together. They had quickly become friends, only accented with their frequent arguments that seemed to make the complex relationship all that more exciting. Sometimes, Ichigo wished Rukia's brother-in-law could see her 'mingling with the commoners' (Ichigo always imagined Byakuya saying that in a snobbish tone while in a fez and smoking a pipe) so that he could just rub it in his face. However, he knew better and shut up at the very subject.

Now, the winds of change had taken effect. Ichigo's schedule had been pushed forward so that when Rukia ended her day, he started his. They were lucky if they saw each other for a minute. For that very reason, the orange-haired boy had demanded his father take him to the hospital earlier each day so that perhaps his time with his friend would be prolonged, even if for a moment. Apparently, that wasn't so on that day.

He stood in the lobby a moment more before he saw a bright red spot enter the field of his peripheral vision. He knew that spot better than anyone. "Hey Renji," he said.

"Oi," the redhead greeted, toting in his bag from the parking lot and sighing.

"You're in early today," Ichigo remarked, not really focusing on Renji at all but rather looking around hopefully for the pixie-like girl.

"Yeah," Renji said. "I got a helluva lot of stuff to do an' didn't feel like takin' any heat from Zaraki on whether or not I got my shit together."

"Ah," was all Ichigo said before a strange buzzing silence descended on the two.

Renji seemed to catch on to the atmosphere Ichigo was in. He smirked at the thought and shook his head, adjusting the white bandana covering the tattoos on his forehead. "If you're lookin' for Rukia, her brother picked her up early today." Ichigo spun around, his attention successfully caught. Renji silently congratulated himself before speaking again. "Yeah, Dr. Kuchiki jus' came on in and got her out I guess. I don't know why, but I saw his car on my way here."

"You sure it was his?"

"Anyone else 'round here own an Aston-Martin V12?" Renji asked. Ichigo noticed that his eyes misted at the mere mention of the sports car, and...was that drool coming out of the side of his mouth?

"Well…no, not really."

"My point exactly. An' she was certainly in it."

Another pause entered the conversation and Ichigo furrowed his brow. "Well, shit."

"Oi, that's my line strawberry. Now outta my way. I got some dyin' people in need of my sought-after assistance."

Ichigo just rolled his eyes once again. "I'm sure Renji. I bet everyone is just thrilled to see you."

Renji just grinned and walked ahead. "You know it. See ya 'round strawberry."

The orange-haired boy didn't even protest to the nickname but just offered a quick wave back before standing awkwardly in the lobby. He gave one last look around before lowering his shoulders in defeat and walking to the burn center.


Bones glowed eerily against the pale fluorescent lighting of the board in the radiology lap. Shuuhei arched a dark eyebrow at the sight, crossing his arms and tilting his head thoughtfully. According to one chest x-ray, six ribs had been neatly broken with hardly any damage to the lungs or even the muscle for that matter. It had been an extremely clean (and fortunate) break. However, the x-ray on the right arm Dr. Ukitake had requested told a different tale. It seemed almost mangled on the image, from the cracked elbow to the shattered wrist that looked like someone had inserted broken glass into the skin. It just didn't make sense.

He took the x-rays down and frowned at them before inserting them into their own individual goldenrod folders, tying the string around the cardboard circle that held it closed and stacking them on an already growing pile. Once finished, he sat down at an abandoned desk and sighed, rubbing his eyes. Renji had already promised him an exciting night and he felt like he was already worn out. He had put far too much thought into the x-rays, wondering how the same accident had produced such strange images. On one hand, the patient who had received the broken ribs had been in possibly the worst of the wreckage. Yet the patient with the broken arm hadn't even been in the accident completely. Either there was something truly odd about the situation or he was reading too deeply into it.

"Damnit," he cursed, massaging his forehead with his palm, closing his eyes tightly. Suddenly, he smelled something that had the unmistakable scent of mocha close by. Cracking one eye open, he blinked to see a Styrofoam cup on the desk, still steaming. Shuuhei removed his hand from his head and turned to see the grinning face of a young woman with golden red hair and gratuitous amounts of chest.

"Hello there!" she chirped happily.

"Um, hi Rangiku," he replied, unsure of how to react to the lovely woman before him and the caffeine-laden mocha beside him.

"Renji told me about the car accidents and all the x-rays you had to do, so I thought it would be nice if you at least got some kind of power source that wasn't an energy drink."

"Oh, thank you," he said politely, taking the cup and wrapping his hands around it, still painfully unsure of what to do. Rangiku was arguably one of the most gorgeous women ever to step foot inside the hospital and there wasn't a man within its walls that didn't want her at some time or another. Yet Shuuhei assumed that none of them had ever been faced with the awkwardness of her being in such close proximity to them.

"Soooo…" she said after a moment. "Anything fun and exciting in the world of Shuuhei Hisagi?"

"Uh, not really. I…" His voice trailed off and he thought for a moment. "I got a new litter box for my cat?"

"You have a cat?" she asked suddenly, her eyes brightened. "Me too! It's a big gray thing. Totally adorable. What about yours?"

Shuuhei was taken aback by her sudden excited outburst but managed a smile for her sake at least. "It's just a really fluffy black cat. I'm not quite sure if there's a breed name for it. He seems kind of mixed."

"Aww, he sounds cute!" she gushed. Shuuhei had heard that she was very personable, but whoever told him that underestimated her extroverted personality. She smiled sweetly at him and he swore his heart stopped for a second. He had never really been too into dating, or women for that matter. Even so, for someone as ridiculously gorgeous as she was, it was hard not to be even the least bit attracted. She stood up and brushed some of her golden red hair over her shoulder. "Well, just wanted to make sure everything is okay up here. I'd better get back down to the office. Anesthesia waits for no injured person!"

"Oh… Well, thanks for the coffee," he said shyly, inwardly cursing his inability to make a decent conversation with her.

"Any time darling! I'll check up on you later if you want!"

"Only if you want," he replied, taking a sip from the cup. The mocha was still reasonably hot and burnt the tip of his tongue. He held back a hiss and just smiled as though he completely enjoyed it.

She grinned at him before strolling off with her elegant gait. He sighed once she was out of sight and set the cup back on the desk, propping his feet up on the Formica base and scattering some unwanted paper with his heel. He didn't understand why Rangiku had bothered to visit anyways. It wasn't like any of the patients who came to his floor needed anesthesia. Besides, she couldn't have possibly visited for anything higher than friendship. She had a thing for that fox-faced pediatrician who creeped the hell out of Shuuhei. Maybe she had an extra cup of coffee and just so happened to be near the lab. He couldn't think of any other probable reason.

With a loud yawn, he tilted his head back and began to count the brown flecks on the ceiling tiles. Sure, he had more than enough work to do, but he had hours to do it. What he really needed was some time to sit back and relax. Sleep was an empty thing in reality. It was like recharging a device but never using it. He was just left to stand around. The relaxation part was what he was in dire need of, and he never got enough even on his days off. Closing his eyes bit by bit, he let every muscle loosen just enough so that he wasn't asleep, but certainly wasn't awake. It was in this state that he felt at least a little more optimistic about everything. As far as he was concerned, optimism was one thing the University of Seireitei Hospital needed more than rest.


Ulquiorra couldn't find the correct words for what he had seen, heard, and felt in those last moments. He scrolled through terms like crush, smash, steel, fire, glass, shatter, and pain. None of those words seemed right. They were hardly applicable to something as monstrous as all that had assaulted his senses. Perhaps it was because he had suddenly been deprived of all of them. To hell with adjectives and nouns now. What good were they? He needed more words to at least keep himself occupied.

At least he could figure out that he wasn't alone and he certainly wasn't dead (although by now death seemed like a heavenly alternative to sense deprivation). He couldn't really name what made him aware of what he was feeling—or if it was feeling at all. There was some magnetic pull in his being that ran through his whole body, yet he couldn't feel a thing. He just knew that there was still life in him. To add to that, there was something keeping him alive. It confused him, but he wasn't causing himself to live. He was being assisted.

Next to that, he had this strange feeling (there he goes with feeling again) that he wasn't the only one in his current position. There was that pull, but it was someone else's pull. Perhaps it was that last pull of life and all who could feel it came together like iron filings to a magnet. No matter how hard he tried, Ulquiorra couldn't find the source. He searched through his blindness only to find more darkness. Yet he kept trying. There was someone else out there behind that dense sheet that kept him from seeing the outside world. Maybe they were reaching back, feeling him too.