A/N: Thank you again for the follows and favourites ^^ Even if you're reading up to my measly third chapter, kudos to you too :D
In particular, I'd like to thank Tachibana Midori for the critical eye and thoughtful reviews :3 I've even tweaked a bit of the last chapter after reading your review so *COOKIES*~
Now Playing: Read All about It – Emelie Sande (playing on Attraction's performance at Britain's Got Talent)
Shadow Dancer
She's on time.
Toshiro raises his head and stares at the shogi doors, making out the smooth outline of her figure silhouetted against the morning light. Matsumoto could learn a thing or two from her.
He watches her as she shifts uncertainly around the frame. Tentatively, she pokes it and cocks her head ever so slightly. After waiting a little, she walks to the sides slowly and fluidly, her legs reaching up in a slight arch before settling in a long stride surprising for her size.
(Almost as if she's dancing)
He doesn't realize he can get lost in this shadow dance of small arches and lean strides until he is.
Until his lieutenant, oh joy that she is, bursts through the doors with her obnoxiously loud voice and slams her chest into his face.
Spilt his ink too.
She babbles something about it being a lovely day and would her taicho pleeeease let her off but his eyes are on the shadow dancer who steps in timidly, that confident grace almost gone.
(Something's broken)
"Fine, go," he mutters and Matsumoto slams his face in (again) before running out at a speed he wishes she could work at.
He meets the dancer's strong eyes with his own.
"Sit. The reports are here."
The way he meets her gaze chills her to the bone.
She begins her work, looking through files and ordering them by subject, stealing small imperceptible glances at him.
His eyes are trained on his paper, just as
(As they were trained on her the other night, when they were alone in his barracks)
As if his life depends upon it.
"Is there a problem?" he asks her once, not raising his eyes from the report.
"No, taicho."
That comes out a little too quickly.
"What are you doing to the stack?"
Well, she would be damned to be humble with that tinge of annoyance in his voice.
"I'm ordering them by type of mission. Retrieval, recon, assassination. They're quite unorganized. " She meets his scrutiny head on. She learns from the best after all.
He says nothing and she swears the corners of his lips lift up slightly before returning to his brush and ink.
Her legs wrap around his waist as he pushes her against the walls.
The bottle can't hold a candle to his drowning in her. As their lips meet in a fury of desperation to escape their fuckedupscrewedup mess, he loses himself in her tongue and the lavender he smells along her throat.
What a beautiful disaster.
She is organized, industrious and focused.
(Perfect)
Their silence is comfortable, almost the silence between friends who have known each other for decades.
(He dares to hope so, anyway)
He does wish she would speak, though. Didn't she say-
"How is Hinamori-san?"
His head whips up to meet her questioning eyes.
"She is still in a coma."
"Aah."
She drops her gaze to her work and the silence now suffocates him.
"How is Kurosaki?"
In an instant he knows he has made a mistake. She does not look up at him and stays silent for long enough he wonders if she forgot he asked anything.
"I don't know."
Her voice is small, a broken whisper.
(She's broken and it isn't for him)
Her form seems to slump as if a great weight has been lifted off her to confess it.
"I've never known after…that."
He leans back and pinches the bridge of his nose.
"You could ask to go to the human world."
She scoffs.
"My brother will not hear of it. He tells me it's time for me to get settled."
"Settled?"
"Marry me off somewhere, I suppose. To some noble clan for an alliance."
The room closes into him. He wants to get out but to leave her would be unthinkable, not when she is broken and slumped.
"He doesn't let me sit an exam to become a seated officer and my captain goes along with it because I'm the weak link here, I'm supposed to be protected and shielded and moved around-"
She looks helpless. Her shoulders shake and he's caught in a juxtaposition of wanting to help and leaving space.
Almost instantly, the mask of polite indifference is back on.
"I apologise, taicho. I will continue working now."
The smile she gives him almost breaks his crossroads.
(He's seen into her soul, it must have meant something)
She leaves a few minutes later.
Watching her walk out reminds him of the shadow dance earlier.
(He can't stand to watch her now, the reflection of himself that she is.)
He makes up his mind.
Kuchiki Byakuya likes his afternoons inside his division.
He hates going outside in the oppressive heat to mingle with the swarming crowds of people.
He also likes his afternoons alone.
"Kuchiki-taicho, you have an audience."
"Who is it?" he demands with more than a fair share of impatience.
(No one said life is fair)
"Hitsugaya-taicho of the Tenth Division."
Well, isn't that a surprise.