Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, or any of the characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

Ch 29: Colorblind

A/N: Lemon.


Half the night he'd sat awake, thinking. Even when his mother had retired to bed, Toshiro had sat in the dark kitchen, wondering where he'd gone wrong. He'd sat there quietly, watching the coffee maker on the counter top as it boiled the addicting drink. Had he not been so hung up on the case, he would have ignored it entirely. He had known that it would completely wreck his schedule, but Toshiro hadn't cared. Even if his mind were at risk of turning to mush, he'd sort this all out.

The assumption that was on the table was simple enough to accept, but complicated in meaning: Two different methods of murder, and multiple victims. At the very least that meant two separate killers, likely in competition if they knew about one another.

The youth hadn't considered that possibility at all. No one had. Well, that was a lie. Tachibana had suggested it at one point, but Toshiro had ignored him. Truthfully, he hadn't wanted to consider the idea that he'd have to hunt down two murderers. But that's what this whole case had been made up of. Catching killers, demons, ghosts. He'd ruled out three potential suspects, putting one away for other crimes, and had caught the fourth suspect who had run about with red hands.

Four players were down and out of the game, easily disqualified. Two more were still rolling the dice. With himself in play, that made three.

Toshiro didn't know how he was supposed to feel anymore. Irritated, distressed, frightened, confused. Nothing seemed to fit. Except lost. It was a very draining sensation, wandering around like this. When he tried to imagine his own face through these moments, all Toshiro would see was his back as he kept walking, trapped in some long, wide room where the colors had blended into darkness. Not even a window, a point of hope, for light.

The coffee could certainly dispel sleep, but it couldn't get rid of that urge he'd had of late. His father would have been sorely disappointed, but Toshiro had just wanted to quit.

# - # - # - #

"Wake up."

She couldn't have known it, but Nemu rolled onto her side, bringing herself closer to the wall. It was necessary for her to get up, of course, but if she did, this world would all float blissfully away, perhaps never to return. That was the problem with dreams. Few people had the ability to bring them back at a later time so that they could finish what had been started. She was one of the majority who couldn't do a thing with dreams. They just went the way they wanted to, leaving her to be the spectator.

It grew dark again in her mind, only to open again with warm light and the smell of freshly cut grass. Looking around, she could see crowds of people gathering around cages and pens. Tiny hands fell at her sides, her face turned as though she'd been sleeping, the ground moving steadily beneath her as she hovered.

"Look who's awake."

How long had it been since she'd heard that kind voice, even in a dream? Several days, if not weeks. Nemu tried to move towards it, to climb down from wherever it was she sat, but there was no control. As she felt herself being lifted, her little fingers curled, clinging tightly to her perch. There another voice, the one that she'd hoped wouldn't show up in this dream, that spoke in ways that she couldn't understand.

It was then that she was set into her mother's arms, soft eyes looking down at her. Just where and when was she? The ground seemed so far away when she leaned over, and the world just seemed so much brighter than it had in quite some time.

"Why does she always do that?"

Nemu watched as her mother smiled, laughing. "She's just a baby. It's part of how they learn."

That's when she saw him, looking at her, almost fondly. It made her remember how it had been when she was little. The way he'd carry her around on his shoulders. And, every time, she'd somehow fall asleep, finding her comfort in being close to someone she knew and loved.

How had it all changed?

Her eyes opened slowly, the mist of sleep making the room appear blurred. She lifted a hand to her face, rubbing it away. When it cleared, she was surprised to see that Akemi was sitting at the foot of her bed, tugging on the blankets.

"I did it! I did it, Daddy!" she exclaimed, bouncing up.

Her eyes followed the laughing toddler until she ran to the threshold of the bedroom door, raising her hands and being lifted off the floor.

She knew he was there, probably watching her, but Nemu didn't want to see him. She didn't want that last moment of her dream to be blown away by what was in her world now. It really was childish, clinging to a dream, to a place that could never be again, but that's what she needed. To know that, at some point in her life, everything had been stable and complete.

Nothing had really changed these past few months. Not for the better, anyway. It had all gone on as usual, the obvious discord and tension between the two of them.

She sat there quietly, still covered by the sheets, peering at the clock that sat across the room. One, two, three... How much longer would it take? She didn't want to spend the first part of her day avoiding a staring contest with him. She didn't have to. Even so, Nemu didn't want to say anything. It took something serious, something important, to get him riled up. But, even if he wouldn't' be upset with her for telling him to leave, she didn't want to do it.

"I... I have to get ready for school," she said, casting a sideways glance at the door.

Nemu didn't like what she saw. Her father wasn't even looking at her now, but at Akemi, who had discovered that, if you pushed the button on the top of the pen, the tip came out. And he was almost smiling. At the very least, he looked the way he had in her dream. As close to content as he could ever be.

But, when he did look at her, she just wanted to melt into the floor.

He shrugged. "Breakfast," he said, "when you're ready." And then he was gone.

She pulled herself out of bed, crossing the room quickly to close the door. It was one of the things she sincerely hated about her life, the completely awkward way they communicated with one another. Never being close, never really understanding how his head worked or why he did the things he did. It was as if they were just roommates rather than family. Nothing common between them, save it be blood and a name.

A fresh school uniform was taken from the closet, laid out on the bed as she stared out the window. Rain again. Another day for an umbrella and rain boots to keep her school shoes from being wet and damaged. The slate gray outfit went on easily over a thin white shirt. She never liked wearing the uniform on its own. It was just habit to do things this way.

Her hair followed, braided just so and left to fall down her back.

Everything was the same as it had been all this time. Boring, dull, even depressing.

It was a slow walk down the stairs, the kitchen busy as Akemi flipped a bowl onto the floor, expressing her deep dislike for the juice and okayu that she'd been given to eat. And, of course, she hopped out of her seat, and ran around to the next room, likely to watch television.

She paused on the steps, backing up a few so that she'd go unnoticed. It was rather sickening, knowing the things that went on behind closed doors. It had nothing to do with the act so much as the emotion behind it. She'd be willing to bet that, every time it went on, he forgot more and more about her mother.

And so, the moment she saw them get close enough, Nemu tromped right down the stairs, hitting the floor with a loud thud. Naturally, Retsu behaved as though nothing had been happening, which was greatly appreciated. Even at her age, being educated as to how adults behaved, Nemu didn't need to see anything at all. In fact, it made her stomach sink whenever she saw her father kiss the woman.

"Good morning, dear. Are you hungry?" Retsu asked, smiling.

Nemu just shook her head. "Not really. I have to get to class early," she lied. "For a project. I'll just... get something at school."

She sat down at the table, poured herself something to drink, and tried to ignore the obvious way his golden eyes followed Retsu around the room.

"I have to get Akemi ready to go," she said, and walked out of the kitchen.

Great. She was alone with him. Again. Finishing the last of the drink, Nemu pushed away from the table, and turned to fetch her school bag.

"You really need to get over this."

Perhaps, but he wasn't saying it because he cared. He was saying it because it would work out in his favor. In more ways than just one.

"I am over it," she replied coolly. "I don't mind that she's here. I like her. She's good to me." Throwing the bag over her shoulder, Nemu turned on her heel to look at him. "What I don't like is the fact that you take everything else into consideration. Everything. And, because I'm a product of something else, something you weren't happy with, I'm left out of the equation."

"Don't tell me you're still hung up on that." A pause. "Fine. What do you want? What am I supposed to do about it?"

She'd honestly expected a lecture. Some useless amount of information that didn't pertain to her statement at all. That's how he'd get her to stop nagging him when she'd been a little girl. She would get lost in trying to understand everything he'd said, and thus forget what the main point of the conversation, at least the start, had been.

"My friends," she said. "I want to have my friends over again. For them to stay the night like they used to. There isn't enough time to do anything with them at school."

The clock kept ticking, and she noticed that there was little more than fifteen minutes to get to school. So much for a project. But he'd likely figured out that it had been a worthless lie so she could get away.

"When?"

"Tonight."

He looked a bit surprised, watching her from across the room. "It's Monday. You have school tomorrow."

Nemu shrugged. "I always get up. I'm always ready on time. It won't make much of a difference."

Her father leaned back in the chair, looking towards the other room as if he were expecting Retsu to show up and give the answer for him. Naturally, he didn't want to deal with what she wanted or needed. And to think that she'd been expecting something different.

"So long as you go to school, it's fine."

She nodded, turning to grab her jacket, smiling as she pulled it around herself. It wasn't too likely, but maybe things could change before she finished school and moved away. A long shot, but she liked to think that some things would get better.

Nemu unlocked the door and stepped out, turning back only to announce that she was leaving before closing it tightly behind her.

On the days like today that she made it to school by herself, if going the usual route, she'd often run into classmates or friends. But today, a cold, quiet morning, she didn't feel like talking to anyone else.

It made her wonder why she'd minced so many words before leaving.

The long way was much more to her liking at the moment. Down the alleyway a couple blocks south before heading east again. No one took that route to school. Even if she ended up being late for class, she just needed some time alone to think about things, about how it all seemed to turn in a circle and walk back through her front door. With everything that was going on, the investigation and whatnot getting in the way, it really seemed as though fate had it in for her and the people she was close to.

Based solely upon age and lack of real experience, people generally believed her to be ignorant to the goings-on of the world. Well, they would be quite surprised to know that she could prove them wrong were they only to stop and listen for a moment.

But, of course, the majority just didn't operate that way. That's why she said so little. Very few people would sincerely take the time to hear and understand her perceptions. And, as a result, the adults, whom she came into contact with each day, had developed the magical mindset which insisted that something in her life was going horribly awry. Naturally, they didn't give a damn about the fact that she was always honest in her dealings.

No, they just wanted to believe that, in one way or another, she was nothing less than a puppet.

"You're late, you know."

She smiled, turning to see Uryu walking beside her. "So are you."

He shuffled awkwardly along, hands shoved into his pockets as he tried to bury himself behind the scarf around his neck. Nemu hadn't even noticed that a chilled wind had picked up until the ends of the scarf started fluttering.

There was silence between them, and it made her feel cold. Much more than the weather was doing. Perhaps he'd been dwelling on what she'd told him during their last date. That she'd made a promise, so many years ago, that she wouldn't just fall in love with anyone. But, being around him, it didn't seem like Uryu Ishida was just anyone.

There were plenty of boys at school, in her class, who seemed to know how to behave themselves. Of course, all were a bit childish at times, still being young, but he had a different quality about him. It wasn't alluring to her at all that he was in the same boat as herself. Without his birth mother, raised by a father who didn't fully understand how to deal with children. If she had wanted to pity him, she'd have done just that, and pitied herself at the same time. But, like herself, he'd just kept going, behaving appropriately regardless of the wretched hand the world had dealt him.

It helped very much that he cared about her. He didn't need to, but he acted as her support, perhaps a crutch with which she could keep on walking.

He'd been keeping her strong the last few months.

"I promised... that I wouldn't fall in love with just anyone."

"It's all right," Uryu nodded. "I know. I don't blame you for it. You should keep your promise."

Nemu stopped, reaching over to touch his arm. "But that's the thing," she whispered. "I think that my part of the promise, what my mother asked, was that I find someone who made me feel... different. Better about the world. The thing is... You're not just anyone."

# - # - # - #

"Why'd you do it?"

Mayuri didn't even have to look at her. It was the usual routine that Retsu used when she felt she needed to intimidate him. It couldn't have worked more than once. Based on her tone, it had something to do with the gloomy way Nemu had set off for school. Of course, she'd think that he had something to do with it. So, he sat there quietly, watching the text roll across the lit screen. He wasn't going to have this conversation.

Her movement was a blur, circling around the room and disappearing to the right. In was now the stage in which she'd do something, anything, to obtain his full attention.

"Don't play this game, Mayuri. It's not cute," she said, pulling the plug on the battery and snapping the lid shut. And, with it, the pint-sized captain's request for inconsistencies in the case. Oh, well. "Now, why did you do it?"

She really was asking for it, hovering the way she was. But it wasn't the only thing that was increasingly attractive at the moment. Aside from, maybe, that idiot Urahara, she knew it all. The darkest, depth-defying truths about the goings-on in his world, and still she hadn't run away. Maybe she was drawn to it, or maybe she wanted to fix him and bring back the light that she imagined he'd once held.

It was all so alluring.

"What, Nemu? I didn't really do anything... Except say that I didn't give a damn if she brought her friends home," he remarked, suppressing a grin. "But you... Well, you could say plenty more than that."

Retsu's hands settled onto the arms of the chair, her gaze level with his own. Yes, he knew that this was supposed to be a serious conversation, and that the time for games wasn't now, but he had to get an answer out of her hardened facade. It had been nagging at him for the last couple of days, her motives for staying there with him, for not turning away or trying to drown him in his own blood.

"I don't mean Nemu." She was silent for a moment, pursing her lips. "Why'd you do it?"

Mayuri had imagined that she would ask eventually, but he hadn't thought that she'd be so damn direct about it. Frankly, he didn't hold a bit of regret for his actions, the result of hardening himself against the constraints of regulation. Had the incessant chattering not kept at him, he'd have said nothing and let her live on in her lovely little world. The motive, or insanity as some would have called it, had been rather basic.

He straightened up in the chair, a hand reaching out to play in the hair that fell over her shoulder. Retsu didn't move, but he smiled.

"Why don't you indulge me for a bit? At the moment, you're really very... distracting."

Her hands moved, one pinning his wrist to the chair, the other slapping his touch away. "You'll get nothing until I have an answer. How's that?"

"Fine." Eyes closed, he sighed, tongue rolling over his teeth. He didn't even feel the tremors. "Everyone has secrets, whether or not they're fully aware. The... appeal is to exploit them. To satisfy the questions that just keep everything going. People tell you far more in death, in their final moments, than you'd ever get out of them in life."

And, really, it was a hell of a lot more entertaining to carve them up.

She didn't speak, and he wasn't going to look at her. This woman was already going to be the death of him, poison like she was.

It was a welcome surprise as Retsu forced his hand down, pinning it like the other, as she settled herself into his lap. It was incredible how she could still stand to be anywhere near him. He was certainly no expert, not having given a damn before she'd come along, but most women probably would have run like hell, straight to the police. This woman was either far too forgiving, or as masochistic as he was.

Hell, he didn't know what he wanted anymore, let alone what was supposed to happen. Retsu was here, and it was evident that she had no intention of leaving. Especially if he told her to.

Her eyes were insisting that everything, aside from the evident lust between them, be forgotten.

It was always a shock, the way she'd draw him under the water with her gaze, only to pull him back out with a sensual, electric touch. But that was an unconfirmed part of the game, looking to see who'd crack first. And, with the way she kept on winning, Mayuri almost suspected her of cheating. Almost. She was just that damned good.

His panting turned into heavy moans as one of her hands slid down between them, nimble fingers undoing the belt and slipping past the waistband of his pants. She made a fist, closing tightly around him, muffling his breaths with her mouth. Nothing made sense anymore. She was completely dominating him, bringing every nerve in his rigid body to scream, waiting for that needed release. But, every time it drew near, Retsu would pull back, smiling against the kiss.

The emotions she brought to boil within his mind couldn't have been anything Mayuri could do to himself. Hell, he wouldn't even think about such behavior, assuming he'd have anything left to think about after this ordeal.

With his hands free, he went about exploring her beneath the dress, peeling undergarments away from her pale body, teasing whatever skin was sensitive enough to react. She would jump periodically, but retaliate with tightening her grip or moving away to lick his neck.

More than anything, he wanted out of the damned chair. To pin her to the floor and turn everything around. Return the torment. But this wasn't a game he could win, regardless of the alarmingly sensual and pleasurable things he wanted to do and have done. It was punishment, not for the unforgivable sins he'd committed, but for keeping secrets. For lying to her.

Lies simply wouldn't be tolerated.

Skilled hands pressed against his throat, keeping him from looking down as she ground herself firmly against him. Gods, why wouldn't she just do it already? Why did she have to make this so damn agonizing? It was just a dull roar in his head, whatever it was she'd been saying to him. But Retsu smiled again, and cool air began to bite heated flesh.

Her ankles slipped behind him in the chair, pinning his trembling body to its frame. Then they met, she slapped a hand over his mouth, muffling the groans and thick curses. That blasted tang of iron soiled his tongue for the first time in weeks, but it hadn't been brought about by the uneasiness of having her find him out. No, Mayuri had done it to himself, teeth cutting through the soft flesh of his lip, hands clinging to her sides.

The sensation didn't fully fade until she moved to touch his face.

"I don't want them here..." she breathed. "You shouldn't have agreed to let them come."

If Retsu didn't approve, he'd never hear the end of it. If Nemu didn't think he cared, she'd continue moping. Either way, he was screwed. Which, in the case of the first, was the current situation.

"They're stupid kids," he hissed. "Here for a night, gone in the morning."

But that wasn't it at all. Retsu didn't trust him, not with people, at least. Not now. She thought he'd go and do something stupid, bring the country, perhaps the world, into all of this, and ruin everything she'd ever wanted.

"Never mind," she said, leaning into him. "You're right. It's fine. They're just kids... They need to enjoy themselves for a change. Especially Nemu."

Mayuri snickered. "I didn't say any of that."

"But you were thinking it. That's why you said yes. You're horrible at showing it, but you care about her."

A perfect way to ruin something pleasant, trying to dissect him like a pinned rat.

Retsu slipped her hand into his, her head falling to his shoulder with shuddering breaths. It was nice to know that her little torture session had had an affect on her as well. That made this even better.

"You're not afraid that they'll find out?" His hand rested on her back.

She must have known that staying was the stupid thing to do. Allowing herself emotional attachment that, were he caught, could drain the color from her little world faster than water from a bath. Regardless of profession, the police wouldn't let any of this go if this got out.

"No. They'll never know the difference," she whispered. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. "I won't let them come and take you from me."