Author's notes: I really, really struggled writing this bit. I have lately been uploading, two or even three chapters a day, but for some reason I had the worst case of writer's block when it came to this scene. I'm not entirely happy with it, kind of feeling sucky and blah about the story at this point, so if you have something nice to say, this would probably be the moment to say it. In the mean time I'm gonna keep torturing myself in the hopes I can write something slightly better for next chapter.

Hopefully it won't be as painful as pulling teeth.

Disclaimer: Tite Kubo, I don't even want to fight you this week for bleach, you can keep it. I was so disappointed with your last chapter, I got writer's block. I hope you're happy. So, as always, you are the owner of the now depressed characters you refuse to use, who are all stuck in Soul Society twiddling their thumbs, while they wait for you to finish your expansion on the whole fullbringer arc, and all I own are the situations I created for them. So there, pffffff *raspberry*

Anguish

Jushiro was beating himself up emotionally, and physically. He had decided to train at sunset as was his custom, even though his mind was not in the least bit engaged in the routine. Usually, his daily routine was a way to keep his body at peak performance, so as to combat some of its inherent weakness, and stave off illness as often as he could. Today however, he used the rigorous exercise routine to punish himself for all the things he had bungled. And the sheer amount of them was astounding. Unbelievable. Unforgivable.

To begin with, he started, mentally listing his many mistakes, he did the unthinkable from the moment he stumbled on to her, and kissed Ryo, somewhere where anyone could have walked in and seen. Just about the last thing he should have done. Instead of running for his life the second he spotted her, he had not only engaged her in conversation, but decided to argue, and then, kiss her. What if the council had found out? Her life was at risk the moment he crossed that line, and he knew it. Alas, that was not the end of his idiocracy, he laughed inwardly humourlessly, thinking of all the idiotic deeds that came after that. Instead of fixing the ever growing problem by telling her right then and there that he had no intention of ever welcoming in his squad, as he should have done in the first place, he chose to quickly withdraw, therefore leaving himself exposed to her ire, and her curiosity, pretty much forcing someone as stubborn as she is to chase him down. His stupidity and cowardice had made her chase after him, which in turn caused her even more pain, because he had to refuse something that she wanted so badly, simply because he could not trust himself around her. He could not trust his responses, his behaviour anywhere close to her, and to prove it, he kissed her, again! And then he disappeared, a coward's way out. She had probably been confused and angry, but still had managed to respect his wishes, and had stayed away from him, in relative peace. So, what does he do, one might wonder? Instead of keeping as far away as he could possibly get, running to the end of the earth, or hiding his love under an indifferent mask, he just couldn't stand her uncertain, confused eyes. So, like a little chastised boy, he chased after her, intending to apologize, but it only took one look at Byakuya boy putting his hands on her, and he ended up losing his shit. Not only did he insult her with his jealous tongue, and ridiculous, completely absurd accusations, which he had no right to make in the first place, but somehow he'd managed to kiss her brutally, then chase her off to gods know where in the dark, where any number of drunken shinigami could have found her, and possibly taken advantage of her state. Obviously, he had gone to find her and escort her back, but having witnessed her crying, on the very spot where they had last seen each other... he couldn't hold his own emotions at bay. He'd gone to her, and simply held her, soothing her and his own battered, broken soul in the process.

His swords slashed mid-air, intricate patterns meant to show off their unique design, and the art behind the skill. He barely noticed, caught as he was in his own internal struggle. How was he supposed to have acted? A good man, the man he had once thought he was, would have walked out, or simply offered some comfort, maybe even called one of her girl friends to help. Instead, because his body demanded...he not only comforted her, he'd decided to kiss her again, proving once and for all that he was just about the worse kind of man, a man that takes advantage of a crying woman. But then, if matters were not bad enough, came the the icing on the cake: he had lost control, with one touch, he lost them both in a passion so fierce, and so wild, that he forgot himself, forgot where he was: in the open, where absolutely anyone walking by could have caught them. Thanks to Sentaro and Kiyone, and their timely intervention, he had stopped himself before he'd completely ravished her, although he must admit, he did bad enough given so little time. Ever Since that night, he had hidden in his private state, Ugenda, too afraid to even go to his office, in fear she would show up, and he would simply end up taking her against his desk in a fit maddening lust. But how could a man of his age be so stupid? Why, after centuries, had his cock simply decided to think in his stead at the worse moments? And it did, whenever she was around. He acted completely out of character the moment he smelled her perfume, like a bipolar, randy, angsty teenager around her. Every ounce of control, every stretch of patience, all the virtue in his soul, every single thing he told himself he could never do, it all abandoned him in a huge exodus, the moment she walked into a room, to be replaced by thoughts that definitely originated somewhere much lower than his mind or heart. He looked down on himself and shook his head, damning the traitor piece of anatomy that refused to listen to him.

Angry slashes, followed by a flurry of kicks and twists made him focus momentary, giving him a few seconds of reprieve. He finished the set, sweat dripping down his face and torso to pool at the waistband of his black kimono pants, the only thing he had kept on. This set finished, he turned, and started the next set, which unfortunately was too easy to occupy his mind. Immediately, Ryo and Maya returned to his mind with astounding force, making him almost miss a step, had it not been for the fact that his body was so well trained to repeat the exercises after so many centuries of practice, it practically moved on its own, without much help from his sluggish, overwrought brain, which kept delivering blow after staggering blow to his pride, reminding him of all the things he had done wrong in the few weeks she had returned to his life.

And to make matters worse, he pondered sadly, he had just found out that he was a father. HIM, Jushiro Ukitake, who loved children, and had dreamed of having his own for centuries, but never could. The thing he had most wanted in life, other than Ryo, but had never allowed himself, since he'd never wanted to saddle a woman with a less than stellar husband and father. Amazingly, after centuries of happy bachelorhood, the only time he had ever contemplated breaking his vow to never marry had been with Ryo, who'd simply stormed into his heart, and taken hold too fast and too deep, naysaying all the reasons he gave her to turn him down, making it impossible not to love her. She had been the only woman he'd felt selfish enough to marry, even if it meant making them both suffer down the line. He had, those days, so long ago, in a moment of absolute clarity, decided that their love, their bond had been strong enough to withstand the adversity that would eventually crash down on her, between his health and rank. And once in love, he had been strong enough to accept the love of a woman, and had been ready to commit himself to her for the rest of their lives together. He had wanted her so badly, he promised himself he would make up in all ways he could for the things he lacked.

It was almost enough to make a grown man want to cry, he reflected. Obviously, fate being the cruel, feckless woman that she is, decided to forever keep her out of his reach. And now, to boot, he had a child, a beautiful, precocious, gifted child, whom he could never acknowledge as anything else other than his subordinate, because it would undoubtedly put her life at risk as well. And he had missed so much already, so many firsts. He winced inwardly, thinking of the possibilities. He missed more than twelve years of her life. He missed seeing his little girl grow up, and take her first steps. He missed her first words. He wasn't there to watch over her as she grew up, living in Rugonkai, where she had been in constant danger. He hadn't been there to teach her how to master her gift, how to control her zanpaktou. He hadn't even been there to console her when she cried, and cuddle her, and wipe her tears. Instead, he had lavished all his love and attention on the few children found a Sereitei, becoming Sensei to so many, and spoiling them as often as he could...all the while his little girl grew up without her real father. And somehow, out of her own desire, Maya had ended up under his care, and his command; fate's one act of bittersweet kindness towards the man she had deprived of love. And now, with her being under his care, after a sworn vow to protect her, he had let her get hurt. He hadn't been fast enough to avoid it. He had tried, but in the end, he had let her get injured, and even if he saved her life, he had still let Ryo and Maya down. In the process he had lost the trust and respect of the woman he loved, and probably the admiration of the child he just found out he had, a bitter, yet fair price for his lack of attentiveness.

He sighed, and moved on to the next routine, a series of slashes and jumps, the fading sunlight glinting off his blades. Maybe it was better this way, he considered. He might never have been able to drive her away if left to his own devices otherwise. He had kept away, purposely not looking for her for so many years out of fear that the council would strike against her, but now that she was here, he found himself invisibly drawn to her. It was as if no matter how much he tried to ignore her, she kept finding her way back into his life. Fate was taunting him again, throwing in his path the one thing he couldn't have. And when he did act, and try to push her away to keep her safe, Ryo somehow behaved in a way that managed to engage the weakest part of him, and his traitorous body seemed to take over and make ridiculous decisions in his stead. Even when exhausting himself physically with exercise such as now, his organ jumped to attention at the thought of her, making him cringe inwardly, the heaviness disturbing his concentration slightly.

With one hand he adjusted himself, and continued the deadly dance, trying to make the blood that had rushed to that very specific place re-circulate through his body by poor sheer will, increasing his speed and the force of his sweeps, throwing himself into the routine in order to regain control of his body. His thoughts damning fate, and her callous nature, suddenly stumbled into a possibility, and the very answer he had been looking for: perhaps this whole incident had been fate's way of redeeming herself, by making Ryo hate him, and therefore keeping her always far away enough from him, and from harm, he rationalized, letting out a tiny little content sigh. It would hurt him, having her so close, yet so out of his reach, but at least both Maya and her would be forever safe. He could spend eternity content with that knowledge, even if never truly happy, he decided. Maya at least he could keep an eye on, and even if it pained him to never be able to be a true father in name to her, he could act as one in deed, training her, watching over her, giving her good advice. As long as she remained in his squad, he could always ensure that she was happy, that her needs were being met, and most importantly, that she was safe. Not that he had been able to protect her today, he argued with himself.

Lost in self-crimination thoughts, Jushiro barely realized a very familiar reatsu was making its way towards him, somehow breaking through the kido barriers he had always set up around his private quarters. A quiet, completely riveted, nearly paralyzed Ryo stood mere metres from where he expertly trained with such speed and grace, all the while concealing her reatsu, while hiding behind some trees, fascinatingly watching him twist, kick, punch and slash, a morbid, beautiful dance in itself. She was wholly absorbed in his movements, a strange sense of déjà vu taking over.

When he finally noticed her presence, it was with surprise, and a fair share of resignation. He turned around wiping his brow, ready but not quite prepared for the worse, knowing she could only be there for two reasons: either Maya had taken a turn for the worse, or Ryo had decided to try and kill him anyways. He hoped it was the latter, and not the former. Feeling as terrible as he felt this very moment, he might just let her.