Captain Shunsui had walked a very long way, and the bottom of his hakama was drenched because he kept staggering off the pathways into the grass. The walk had sobered him a bit—enough that he could walk a reasonably straight line, provided no corners jumped out at him--but he hadn't gotten five steps into the halls of Fourth Division's infirmary before Captain Unohana cornered him anyway.
"You!"
Great. She's figured out that I'm the reason a building fell on Nanao, she's going to forbid me to see her, and I'm going to have to break into a hospital in the middle of the night to profess my undying love for a woman who has absolutely no reason to believe me.
This may require more sake.
"Unohana-san," he said placatingly, giving her his best puppy-dog look, "it was all a misunderstanding, I swear…"
Unohana was not impressed. She rested a hand on the hilt of her sword and looked remarkably murderous for a healer. "You have to take her out of here! This is not restful!"
"I—what?" That wasn't what he'd expected to hear.
"Ise Nanao!" She glared at him. "You're still her Captain, aren't you? For a little while longer?"
"Madam," he said icily, drawing himself to his full (if somewhat swaying) height, "I assure you that I am her captain for the foreseeable future."
Unohana was even less impressed. "Tell them that. I've had four captains in here, and nearly as many vice-captains. The rumor is that you two had a falling out, which culminated in a running fire-fight across half the city—"
"It wasn't like that!"
"—and now you're about to give her her walking papers." She gave him a hard look.
"I would never—"
Unohana looked at him for a long moment, then sighed. "No, you wouldn't, would you? Unfortunate. I thought we might actually have a shot at getting her…well, never mind. Get her out of here. She needs rest, and she isn't getting any. This is a place of healing, not interviews!"
"Going," said Shunsui meekly, and fled down the hall in a swirl of pink.
"And walk!" she called after him. "You reek of sake!"
He walked obediently until he was around the corner, and broke into a run.
If he'd stopped to think about opening her door, he might have stood there all night, paralyzed, but he wasn't thinking, so it was open before it occurred to him that he might have wanted a moment to gather his courage.
Nanao, looking very tired indeed, was propped up on pillows. The bed, her legs, and the nightstand were covered in careful stacks of paper. On the floor at her bedside, Captain Hitsugaya was chewing on a pen.
Shunsui felt a sudden completely irrational surge of jealousy.
"Nanao-chan?" he said. "We're going."
She looked up, a flush starting to suffuse her pale skin.
Hitsugaya stood up and folded his arms. The fact that he was a good foot shorter than Shunsui made no apparent difference. He simply glared up.
"I don't believe it's a good idea for Vice-Captain Ise to go anywhere," he said. With you was not actually stated, but it hung loudly in the air anyway.
"Unohana's orders," said Shunsui, in clipped tones.
It was not in Hitsugaya's nature to back down from anything, but he had learned to pick his battles. The young captain glanced over his shoulder at Nanao, apparently to make sure that this was all right with her.
It occurred to Shunsui that if it wasn't all right with her, he might very well be getting into a fight with another captain—and a minor to boot—in the middle of a hospital, which A) was definitely going to go onto his permanent record, and B) would require vast quantities of paperwork to settle and C) he probably wouldn't have his beloved Nanao-chan around to make sure it all got smoothed over.
These three realizations were balanced out by D) that at this point, he would probably do it anyway.
Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead…
"It's fine," said Nanao wearily. "Thank you."
"Hmm." The white-haired captain locked eyes with Shunsui. "Vice-Captain Ise, should you find that you are leaving the Eighth—"
"She isn't."
"—you have a standing offer from the Tenth."
"Thank you, Captain Hitsugaya." Nanao gathered up the papers, stacking them neatly crosswise. "I will consider it."
He took the papers, bowed politely to her, gave Shunsui a bare nod, and left the room.
Shunsui waited until the door had closed. "You wouldn't really leave the Eighth…would you, my Nanao-chan?"
Nanao wouldn't meet his eyes. Hers were back to icy blue, and there were dark circles under them. "Only if I were forced out."
Relief seized him so strongly that it felt like joy. "Good! Wonderful! Now, darling Nanao-chan, we really are going." He yanked the blanket off her bed.
"What—hey!" She was wearing the standard issue hospital robe, which didn't leave much to the imagination, particularly not an imagination as overheated by sake as his.
"Get dressed." Shunsui located her clothing draped over a chair and tossed it to her. She swatted it out of the air, a line forming between her eyes.
"What? Where are we going?"
"We're getting you out of here so you can get some rest, before any more of these—these vultures—can offer you a job. Get dressed."
She didn't move.
He made an exasperated sound. "If you think I'm leaving you here so that the Fourth and the Tenth and the gods know who else can come sneaking in—"
"The Second, actually," she said, "what's left of the Third, the Seventh, the Twelfth, and the Thirteenth."
"The Thirteenth!" This actually did take him back. "That white-haired weasel…and you don't seem to be getting dressed, darling Nanao-chan…"
"You're drunk," she said, her lip curling.
"Very!" he agreed cheerfully. "Last warning. Get dressed, or I will dress you—and I will enjoy that a great deal." He smiled wolfishly down at her. She didn't budge. "That was an order." She still didn't budge.
What are you going to do if she actually calls you on it, old man?
I'll…get back to you on that one.
He took a step forward.
"I formally protest this handling," she said coldly, folding her arms.
"Your protest is formally noted."
Whatever she saw in his eyes, it apparently convinced her that he was entirely serious. "Fine. Turn around at least."
He decided not to push his luck and turned around to study the wall. Cloth rustled behind him. The sake-overheated imagination went to work again.
Despite what he'd said, the walk over really had sobered him up considerably, and a good thing too, because the flare of power behind him was the only warning he got. Shunsui dropped to one knee just in time for the ball of demon energy to pass over his head and leave a scorch mark on the wall three feet across.
He spun around, eyes wide. Nanao—dressed, if rather hastily—was crouched on the bed, one hand raised, and blue lightning was crackling around her fingertips.
"You didn't have to speak…" he said incredulously.
She shrugged. "Kido master, remember?" The lightning started to gather more brightly.
Their eyes locked.
Very deliberately, he reached down, wrapped his fingers around the hilt of the shorter of his two swords, and drew about an inch of steel.
The feeling of a captain-level zanpakutou being unsheathed in a room that small was like a silent thunderclap. His power washed through the room in a suffocating wave, crashing against hers like the sea striking stone. The lightning flared up in response to the surging of the psychic tide. For a moment it was very hard for either of them to breathe.
Nanao blinked at him. He shrugged. "Captain, remember?"
"You're drawing on me?"
"You tried to disintegrate my head!"
"That was a warning shot!"
"So is this!"
Shunsui would never, ever, have actually used his sword—he suspected he would have let her disintegrate him from the feet up first—but drawing it seemed to have ended the fireworks. Fine. Ukitate had told him twice now not to treat Nanao like a baby bird, and if that meant answering excessive force with excessive force, well…
God, her eyes were so very, very blue.
The psychic tide surged again, power washing over power, seeking weaknesses and finding none. His was vast and silken. Hers was a smaller spark, but as hard and polished as diamond. Trying to wear it down would have been like waiting for the ocean to erode a rock. It would take a thousand years or more, and the stone might just outlast the sea.
"My Nanao-chan has an astonishing will," he said, when he could remember how to speak.
"Your Nanao-chan needs it," she said hoarsely, "or her captain would eat her alive."
Your Nanao-chan. His heart gave a great leap, and the power flared up in response, until it seemed like they both might drown in it. The blue fire in her hands cast flickering shadows across her face and the long line of her collarbone. It was, he noted distantly, the exact color of her eyes.
They might have stood there, staring at each other, for the next thousand years, while power pulsed through the room, but there were footsteps in the hall, a babble of voices, and from the far end of the corridor, Unohana, in a voice that wasn't quite a shout, "What is going on in there?"
They both started guiltily.
"Let's do this later," said Nanao, shaking fire off her fingertips.
"Yes, let's." He hastily resheathed Katen Kyoukotsu, took two steps over to the bed, and plucked her out of it.
"I can walk, damnit! The brick hit me in the head, not the feet!"
"And have you ducking out on me again? After the chase you gave me, my darling Nanao-chan should be grateful I didn't bring handcuffs."
Nanao shoved her glasses up, folded her arms, sat up as straight as a woman being carried in someone's arms can sit, and looked grim. Shunsui rested his chin on top of her head and grinned like a cat on a canary diet.
The footsteps in the hallway were definitely louder now.
"Out of curiosity," he said, settling her weight more comfortably across his chest, "about how much paperwork did that generate?"
She unbent enough to lean back and study the burnt wall. "Hmm…Form 12J-10, property destruction and unsheathing a zanpakutou in a restricted area, in the course of a duel of honor…"
"Was that a duel of honor?"
"You don't want to see the forms if it wasn't. About six inches worth of paperwork, I'd say."
"Long?"
"Thick."
"Will they get any thicker if I kick the door down?"
"Not significantly."
"Oh, good. I've always wanted to do that."
Despite herself, Nanao gave a brief, quickly stifled laugh.
"I heard that, dearest Nanao-chan…" He kicked the door down. Since it was a paper screen, it wasn't particularly difficult, but he felt a certain emotional satisfaction anyway.
The head of Fourth Division was on the other side of the screen. "Please…leave…" said Unohana, obviously on the last frail edge of calm.
"Going!" he said cheerfully, sprinting down the hallway in the opposite direction (which wasn't the way toward the door, but he'd go out through the roof if need be.)
"Send me the forms, Unohana-taicho…" Nanao called helplessly over his shoulder.
"I will. And get some sleep…!"
Shunsui stalked through the halls of the infirmary, carrying Nanao, who was trying very hard to look as if she had no idea who he was and only just happened to be going the same way. Somebody wolf-whistled at them, then ducked hurriedly back into his room before Nanao's glare could reduce him to a pile of ash.
"This is not discreet," she muttered.
"Oh, and our 'running fire-fight' this morning was?"
The corners of her mouth turned down. He wanted very much to kiss them, but if he didn't look where he was going, he was going to run them both into a wall, and then Unohana really would yell.
They got to a stairwell, which lead to the roof, and that was close enough for Shunsui. The leap to the adjoining rooftop contained just enough drunken stagger to make Nanao yelp and throw her arms around his neck, which was all to the good as far as he was concerned.
She had a lovely yelp. He would have to do things to unsettle her more often.
Yep, you're besotted, old man.
I know! Isn't it wonderful?
Inside the hospital, examining the damage to her door and wall, the Captain of the Fourth pinched the bridge of her nose between thumb and forefinger and shook her head wearily. Unohana had long suspected that the reason there were rules about captains and vice-captains consorting together was because the potential for property damage during courtship was profound.
Still, these two weren't the worst she'd seen. If Captain Zaraki ever fell in love with anything other than wanton violence, they'd probably have to evacuate the city.
Sighing, she called for one of the members of the squad to come clean up, and bring a bucket. Again.
