I want to start off with a heavy disclaimer that I had started this story long before the events of Chapters 650 and 651.
Spoiler warning: I do not believe Shunsui and Nanao are related by blood. r-dahlia (Tumblr) has done an outstanding analysis of why these two are not blood-related, and I have nothing to add to what she has argued. Further, we have strong support of a confession from Nanao in Chapter 651 (not to mention Shunsui's persistent come-ons, suggestive shenanigans, and of course the Valentine's Day omake). There is just way too much evidence between these two for a romantic pairing, so to me, it doesn't make sense that they are blood related. I have shipped this pairing since 2008, when I first discovered Bleach, and I started this fic not too long after Libélula. I still love the concept of this pairing. As I was doing research for this fic, and stumbled upon chapters 650 and 651, I got discouraged from publishing it because I didn't want to people to think I was shipping something inappropriate. But at that point, I had spent many hours on this fic, and so I take the strong position that Nanao and Shunsui are not, in fact, related by blood (please review r-dahlia's works if you are interested in learning more), and I present to you a (complete!) romantic fanfic of these two wonderful characters. Despite my annoyance with Kubo, I still tip my hat to him and present to you chapter 1 of Sensual Love.
"Nanao-chan, your favorite color is red, isn't it?"
Instead of answering the Captain, Nanao Ise continued swishing her pen across a yellow form, just one among the massive horde piled all over Shunsui Kyoraku's desk. She often took her place there when the work involved in attacking the sheaves of paper could no longer be deferred. She was all work with no breaks, and Shunsui hated it when she ignored him.
"I haven't forgotten, but I just wanted to make sure," he pressed.
When Nanao responded with more wordless swishing, he took his opportunity to tease. "Red is so sexy, you know. When I think about you wearing a lovely red-"
"Blue," she snipped, quenching the heat in his imagery.
"Tsk! You went and changed your mind without telling me."
"Since when is my favorite color a priority of the Eighth Division?"
Her pen never missed a beat, but neither did he. "Nanao-chan, isn't there anything you've always wanted, and even though you tried and tried, you just couldn't attain it?"
"Yes."
"Ooh! And what's that?" His eyes sparkled. "A bouquet of rare roses? A ruby the size of your face? Valentine's Day is coming up, you know!" He puckered his lips and flattened his hands atop the desk. The fabric of his pink kimono draped dangerously close to the paperwork she was scribbling on. "A lovely red-"
"No, getting paperwork done in peace! Why do you insist on asking me questions if you're going to answer all of them yourself?"
He pouted. "Those aren't serious answers!"
She set her pen down at last. "I have a lot of work to do, taicho."
He yawned and shook his head. "You should really take a break, lovely." Shunsui strode over to the other side of the room to lounge on his favorite couch, and he could feel her frosty glare following every one of his movements. He knew she hated the little epithets he gave her.
Nanao sighed, though a little too roughly for Shunsui's taste. "I would have time to take a break if a certain Captain pulled his weight around here."
"But you never let me help you, Nanao-chan!"
"That's because you refuse to file documents according to protocol. It makes things impossible to find. It takes me twice as long to correct the work!"
That stung a little, but he just lifted his hat a bit to observe her more fully. "Well, you do look so cute when you're concentrating. It would be a crime to deprive me of the pleasure of witnessing such a studious, dedicated beauty."
To his immense delight, he was rewarded with a subtle blush. In seconds, she hid her face by straightening a stack of long papers, but it was too late. How he lived for that sweet, crimson tint.
He sat up. "Is my Nanao-chan blushing?"
"No," she snapped, carefully straightening the papers and setting them at the corner of the desk. "I'm mad because I'm stuck with the most unprofessional captain in the Gotei 13."
Shunsui nestled back into the cushions, crossing his arms behind his head. "You know you would do anything for me, Nanao-chan. If you didn't feel that way, you would have joined another squad a long time ago."
Shunsui could play the fool all too well, but far from foolish was he. He closed one eye and peeked at her with the other. The pink flush was now morphing into scary red. Just like her favorite color. Or at least, what used to be.
. / . \ .
"I can't stop thinking about her, Jyuu."
Jyuushiro Ukitake noted the hint of sorrow in Shunsui's voice. Jyuushiro's best friend was sprawled across his office couch, voice muffled from speaking beneath the straw cap that was shielding his face from sunlight pouring through an open window.
"Who is it this time?"
A lazy sigh. "I don't know, Jyuu. It's pretty terrible of me."
"Oh, come on. It can't be that bad."
"Oh, it is."
"An upper seat?"
A labored heave from Shunsui.
"A captain? Unohana-senpai?!"
Shunsui wrenched his hat off his face. "No! Not that bad!"
"Well, that's a little harsh."
Shunsui raised his palms upwards in defense. "Look! I'm not saying she's not attractive. I think every man in the Gotei 13 has had a crush on her at some point. But she's not my type. Besides," he lowered his voice. "She's already taken."
"What! She's seeing someone?"
Shunsui eyed Jyuushiro in a an I'll-kill-you-and-feed-you-to-hollows-if-you-tell-anyone sort of way. "I shouldn't have said anything, but...I can't keep it to myself now. You can't tell a SOUL about this one, Jyuu. You probably wouldn't even believe me if I told you."
"I can't imagine her dating anyone. She's been our senpai for so long. She's almost like a mother to us."
"Yeah, well, there's someone who definitely doesn't see her as a mother." Shunsui laughed. "It's pretty bad, Jyuu."
Ukitake's stomach plopped. "Not Komamura!"
Shunsui snorted. "No! Not that bad!"
"Who, then?!"
Jyuushiro was trying very hard to shake a very unwanted image of his senpai with the 7th division captain. He waited with bated breath for Shunsui to recover from his laughing fit. Who could it be?
"Guess."
"Kurotsuchi?"
"No, they hate each other, you know that."
"Hmm…not Kuchiki?"
"No. Honestly, I think he's still hung up on his late wife."
Ukitake thought for a bit. Then his eyes grew wide.
"No! It can't be!"
Shunsui just gave him a conspiratorial smile and nodded.
"Kenpachi Zaraki?!"
Shunsui burst into a fit of giggles.
Ukitake could not contain himself; he joined his friend in his own fit of amusement.
"You're kidding!"
"If I'm lying, I'm dying. I caught them."
Ukitake's eyes grew wider, if that was even possible. They really shouldn't be gossiping like this about Unohana-senpai. But he just couldn't help himself. "Caught them where?"
Shunsui calmed himself a bit before he explained. "I was supposed to deliver some reports to the Eleventh Division. You know me, I would have rather been taking a nap, but Nanao-chan was really busy with paperwork, and the documents were classified, so she made me go deliver them. It was after hours by that time. Anyway, the door was slightly open, so I just assumed it would be OK to walk in." A smirk curled across his face as he recounted the details. "I Kid. You. Not. He had her trapped against the wall, one hand on each side of her, and he was leaning into her real close. And it looked like he just got done telling her something real saucy, because she was blushing real hard. At that point, she noticed me, and as soon as she saw me, she shunpoed straight out the window." Shunsui wiped a tear from his eyes. "I about pissed my pants. I told him he could kill me if anyone ever found out about this. So…for the sake of my life, you can't tell anyone."
"You didn't notice her reiatsu before you walked in?"
"I didn't think that they would be—"
"Good point." Ukitake paused. "And they must have been too distracted to notice you."
They just looked at each other and exploded in laughter again.
"Let me tell you. Getting clobbered by Kenpachi would be worth it, because that was the funniest thing I've ever seen."
"I can't believe it."
"I told you that you wouldn't."
Ukitake shook his head. "The two scariest captains in the Gotei 13. Honestly, it kind of fits."
"You can't be serious, Jyuu."
"I am serious! Opposites attract. She's poised and elegant, and he's a beast of a man. It's almost bound to happen."
Upon hearing that, Shunsui gave him an unreadable look, huffed, and put his hat back over his face.
At once, Ukitake realized what his friend had been trying to tell him at the beginning. "Uh-oh. Shun."
"I told you it was terrible of me."
"Nanao?"
He groaned. "Yeah..."
So. His friend was finally starting to admit his feelings aloud. Jyuushiro had observed the interactions between Shunsui and his lieutenant for years now. The Valentine's Day gifts, the ostentatious displays of affection, and the sting of refusal Shunsui tried to hide behind sake, jesting, women, and those notorious naps of his. He had almost given up on expecting the subject to come up.
"Well, I can't say I'm surprised to hear it. Why are you bringing it up now?"
"I'm not surprised you've suspected all this time. Something happened in the office a few nights ago that has got me thinking that my messaging may have finally gotten across. It's really been doing a number on me."
"What happened?"
"Well, I was lying on my office couch like I usually do, watching her do work, and then I started teasing her like I usually do…"
. / . \ .
"Nanao-chan," Shunsui said, lifting his hat, "it's getting late. You should really get home."
"I can't, taicho. I still have to finish about twenty more forms." She paused to briefly look at him. "But if you want to go, you can go. Really, I'll be fine closing everything up."
"Nonsense." For whatever reason, he was feeling particularly honest that day. Maybe it was those extra cups of sake he'd downed at lunch. Maybe it was the candlelight glow illuminating those furrowed eyebrows of hers, or how soft her face looked after she removed her glasses to ease the strain on her eyes.
"I like watching you work. Your dedication has always impressed me, Nanao-chan."
A smile, ever so slight, made its way across her lips. He prized the rare moments she took his compliments seriously. He stood up from his chair and padded across the room to admire her work, or rather, her, more closely. But as his eyes drifted toward the documents, something caught his eye. An error.
"Nanao-chan, today isn't the 30th. It's the 31st."
"What?"
"The date is wrong."
She glanced over to the top of the page, annoyance in her eyes evident. Usually, she was the one lambasting him over paperwork errors. He briefly thought about gloating, but the snarl coming out of her throat made him reconsider.
She scratched out the date. "I'll have to change every last one of them! This is going to take all night."
Shunsui would have told her to leave it be, but it would have been a waste of energy. Instead he bent over, setting his face dangerously close to her ear. "Why don't you let me help you, Nanao-chan?"
She froze.
Shunsui inhaled an unexpected whiff of the enchanting floral perfume she was wearing. How delightful! His Nanao-chan finally indulging in decadent fragrances! As he took it in, he was surprised to find it was a scent he recognized. He sniffed—loudly—a few more times as he inched towards her neck. Then it hit him. He'd bought her that perfume! He'd gifted it several months back, for Valentine's Day, after his attempt to confirm that her favorite color was red. Despite her insistence to the contrary, he decided to purchase the fragrance anyway. It was called Sensual Love. It came in a sexy red bottle shaped like the torso of a buxom woman—none other than the goddess Venus. Barbarous Nanao-chan had hurled it at his head upon opening the gift, dispensing a thunderous rebuke about how "highly inappropriate" this "trinket of lasciviousness" was. Her face had turned the deepest shade of scarlet he'd ever seen.
As he thought about it, he didn't remember her throwing away the perfume after she'd chucked it at him. Did she keep it after all? His heart beat a little more quickly. Always, she'd refused his tokens of affection. It was such a long-running occurrence between them that he'd sadly come to expect it over the years. The fact that she'd accepted one of his romantic advances at last—in secret, no less...
Well, it stunned him.
Her cheeks flushed, and he could see that blood was coloring her ears as she forced herself to continue her work.
"This scent, Nanao-chan…"
She continued scribbling.
Unable to stand being ignored after such a revelation, he moved in closer, to see if she would react. When she would not budge, he realized he was close enough to steal a kiss. He almost prevailed, but she stopped him with a swift whirl and a sharp whack to his face with that wretched fan of hers. He could almost see the smoke fuming out of her ears.
Shunsui jetted his hand to the cheek that was surely reddening by the second. His pride wounded, he forced out a chuckle.
She was seething. "It's not funny."
"Nanao-chan..."
She folded her hands on the table. "I need you to stop."
She did not look him in the eye as she usually did after one of her caustic lashings. This wasn't just anger, he realized, as much as she was trying to play it off as such—he had seen that enough times to know the difference. No, this was something else.
She felt exposed.
She had accepted affection from him, and now he knew. The concept alone was enough to inspire a thousand poems, and he wanted to write every single one of them straightaway. Some distant part of him understood that she was angry, and he should back off, but that scent. It was overwhelming him. He was tempted to retreat to the usual ways, to maintain the flimsy wall he'd constructed over the course of their professional relationship, but instead he regarded her with fresh eyes. Perhaps out of sheer optimism at this new revelation, he chose candor.
"You didn't used to mind my attention, Nanao," he murmured. "In earlier times. These days, it...I honestly wonder sometimes whether you even want me around. Do I really bother you that much?"
His tone had shifted, and he knew she would sense it. It wasn't often that he spoke to her so pointedly. Her shoulders sagged. As Nanao turned to face him, her eyes softened, and her face lost all of its edge.
"Taicho, I..."
It was brief, but he caught it. Her eyes had shifted to his mouth for a precious few seconds. She must have realized her mistake, for she never finished her sentence. As she met his gaze again, he heard his own heart throbbing in his ears.
It may have been a fool's hope, but he allowed himself to indulge. It took everything in him not to press her against him and kiss her. His restraint was mainly for his own protection—he was just mercilessly rejected several moments ago, so to press now would be unwise. He usually deserved whatever retaliation he got from her, but in this moment it would have injured him.
Instead, he held her gaze with words unspoken—they both knew the perfume was significant. If he allowed himself to admit it, he'd long grown tired of all the games—the chasing, the jesting. The put-downs. He hid behind his wit, banter, and cloying poetry just as much as she hid behind her temperance and restraint. This was delicate ground. She had opened up part of herself, albeit in secret.
He'd seen that look in a woman's eyes before, but never from Nanao.
This was very delicate ground.
. / . \ .
"I just kind of left after that. But I've been going crazy thinking about it ever since."
"Have things changed between you two?"
"Yeah…she's been avoiding me."
"Hnh."
"Something in her eyes, Jyuu. I know she wanted more. I mean, I know she's been mad at me before, but not like this."
"Hnh."
After a pause, Jyuushiro had an idea. "Why not just tell her how you feel?"
Shunsui blinked. Twice. "Why not just tell her how you feel?" he mocked in a quasi-falsetto voice.
"What? I'm serious. If you think something has changed, just attack the problem head on. No dancing around it. No sappy poetry. No games. Nanao isn't the type to tolerate those things."
"You think?" Shunsui said, his tone sarcastic.
"Look, you asked me for help. Think about all the ways in which you've attempted to, I don't know, 'steal her heart,' as you'd say," Ukitake stated, with air quotes to emphasize his point. "How has that been working for you?"
Silence from Shunsui. And then, "You got me."
"If you want Nanao to accept you, you're going to have to put some skin in the game."
"You think flowers, perfume, poetry, and all the things I've done for her isn't putting skin in the game?!"
"No."
"How can you say that?"
"Because you know deep down that those things don't work. At least, not the way you've been doing them. You have nothing to lose, so there's no harm in keeping up the charade. I'm talking about having an honest conversation with her about the truth. She's a straightforward person. She's the type that will only accept something real."
"You don't think everything I've done is real?"
"Well, it clearly isn't getting the message across. You need to communicate with her in a way that she will accept. And that requires honesty. And some vulnerability, I might add."
For the first time in a long time, Jyuushiro saw fear in his best friend's eyes.
"No risk, no reward, Shun."
Shunsui breathed out a deep, dramatic sigh.
"If she refuses you, then at least you tried. It's better than doing nothing, wallowing in this pathetic self-pity, and wondering for the rest of your life what would have happened if you'd have acted differently."
"Just full of wisdom today, aren't you?"
Jyuushiro merely raised an eyebrow in agreement.
"Got any ideas?"
"You might try a letter."
Shunsui laid his head back down and pulled his hat over his face. "She'll just think it's another poem, and she'll burn it with one of her kido spells without even reading it."
"It's all about delivery. And also, no games. No flowery language. It doesn't even have to be wordy. It just has to be true."
"I'll think about it," said Shunsui from under his hat. Sighing once more, he drifted off to sleep.
. / . \ .
Nanao cursed the day she picked up that wretched bottle of perfume!
It all started the night she'd made the grave mistake of picking up the book Matsumoto had given her months ago for her birthday. It was the only kind of book Matsumoto ever read—some trashy romance novel that Nanao would have normally tossed aside, but she needed the mindless distraction during such a pressing week. She was working double shifts due to a cold that was going around, and throughout that week she was unable to fall asleep due to all the stress.
She flew through the pages with the occasional twinge of guilt, reluctantly taking an interest in one of the main characters. Much to her annoyance, this character reminded her of Captain Kyoraku, sappy poems and all. He was not really a lecher like her taicho, but the similarities were there. More irritating was that the female protagonist was a lot like herself. Throughout the book, it became clear that the two hid their feelings for one another to maintain professionalism, and Nanao could not help but root for the two characters to end up together. She began wondering if Matsumoto was trying to send Nanao a message through the book.
Unlike her lascivious captain, however, the main character treated the heroine with respect. He gave her practical gifts like soap and stoneware—things the heroine actually needed. He pulled his own weight, too, unlike some people. Despite the differences, there was a chapter in the book where the heroine received a similar gift as Nanao—perfume. Nanao rolled her eyes but continued to read, staying up until three in the morning to finish the book. As she dozed off, it fell through the space in her headboard so that when she woke up in the morning, she had to dig it out from under her bed.
Perhaps it was the lack of sleep that clouded her normally impeccable judgment, but the following morning, as she retrieved the book, she detected the ruby red bottle of Sensual Love underneath her bed and pulled it out along with the book. She wiped off the thin layer of dust that had collected on the bottle, and with a slight smile on her face, recalled lacing it with kido and hurling it at the Captain's head.
She recalled moving to dump the perfume into the trash, but the bottle's bright crimson sparked her curiosity. She took a quick glance at her unconscious captain, and confident that she had some time, she pumped a tiny bit of it on her finger for a sample.
"Oh, my."
It was exquisite.
She turned the bottle in her hand and was stunned to note that it was a full parfum. And in such a sizeable bottle, too. He must have spent a fortune on it, the sentimental fool.
That's when she noticed another unexpected detail. It wasn't just the torso of a naked woman—one of the main reasons she'd deemed the gift so inappropriate—it was an artistic twist on the Venus de Milo. In her rage, she'd failed to notice it. The gift was a nod to her love of classical art and Greek mythology, all in a brilliant ruby—her favorite color. The scent, which she could not deny was probably the best perfume she'd ever encountered, led her to seriously think twice about throwing it away.
She shifted her gaze to the floor again, where her Captain was rousing from unconsciousness and muttering incoherently. He had a playful simper on his lips. She eyed the red bottle once more. Every detail about the gift was cleverly strategized, yet he still took the risk that she would reject it in scorn.
Perhaps she had been a bit too harsh.
Before he could awaken, she shunpoed out of the building to her home and stuffed the perfume under her bed. It sat there for months—though she had not forgotten it—until Matsumoto's troublesome book led her to dab a bit of it on her neck before heading to work.
And now her Captain knew.
. / . \ .
Weeks had passed since "the incident" when Shunsui detected the perfume, and since that time, he had been uncharacteristically absent. Though, if Nanao were being honest with herself, it was she who started avoiding him first. When Nanao stopped completing paperwork in his office, he stopped coming around to sleep as she worked. Her embarrassment had yet to wane, so initially she was relieved to discover that he was reciprocating her distancing efforts. A few times, she felt his reiatsu in front her office door. As the nearly imperceptible pause hovered beyond the threshold, her breath would hitch. But he always just moved on, and she'd be alone again.
He stopped asking her if she would join him, Captain Ukitake, and Rangiku for sake. She didn't expect that one to sting quite as much as it did.
Nanao started accepting assignments nearer to other divisions. She also began tending to things she'd been putting off, like rectifying some of the Gotei 13 organizational discrepancies. Most of these assignments required spending more time at the Vice Captain Assembly Room, located in the First Division. For quite a while now she'd been meaning to establish a more effective reporting system and meeting protocols. According to her observations, the Vice Captains wasted at least twenty minutes of every meeting sorting out the futile details of everyone's weekly updates—repetitious incident reports, inconsistent names and dates, chronic failure to redact confidential information, among other offenses. Protocol required that field reports be discussed at the meetings, but many times, the shinigami failed to pay proper attention, so redundant communications were a consistent problem. She would never forget the day four different Vice Captains turned in field reports for the exact same incident: a kerfuffle at the kido school where a brawl between two female trainees resulted in accidentally zapping Vice Captain Omaeda's hair off. The first time hearing about it, Nanao could admit it was a bit amusing, but by the time the fourth lieutenant (Rangiku) had reported on the exact same issue, Nanao was at her wits' end. She excused herself from the meeting and vowed that it would be her mission to eradicate all inefficiencies and counterproductive field reports from the Gotei 13, now and forever!
After weeks of diligent planning, when she finally introduced the new protocols, there were ungrateful groans all around. She nearly broke the pencil she was writing with when Vice Captain Renji Abarai, scratching his head and sniffing, asked, "Oi, what's wrong with the old way of doing reports?"
Nanao's nostrils flared, and an ominous light flashed off of her lenses.
"Just. Do it."
It took some getting used to, but the lieutenants eventually got the hang of the new protocols. She nearly cried with elation when the third meeting with her new codes ended after only twenty minutes.
An extra hour to myself! The Captain will be proud—
That was when it hit her. She hadn't had a real conversation with her Captain in weeks. She felt ashamed. Was it time to get over her embarrassment and approach him again? She'd been so focused on the reorganization that she'd lost track of how long it had been since even looking him in the eyes. She blushed as she realized that it had been over a month since having a real conversation with him. Even more alarming was that she realized she was starting to miss his ridiculous antics—maybe not the extreme ones, like making her pick apart rose petals for hours on end—but she couldn't deny that, despite his wretched snoring, it was nice having someone around as she plowed through hours of paperwork.
In less than a minute, she was back at the Eighth. She strolled over to his office, but he was absent.
Of course.
And what a sight his office was. Since the incident, he hadn't done any paperwork! Sheaves and sheaves of it were scattered about his desk. Clenching her teeth, she clomped over to the papered mass and just stared at it, shaking her head in disapproval. Reinforcements would need to be called in for this—yet another reason for her to get things straightened out with the Captain. The Division would soon fall apart without her organizational touch.
She was just about to shunpo out when something on his desk caught her eye. A small section of the desk had been cleared off, as though someone had pushed aside stacks of paper to make room to write. Atop the area that was cleared off, there lay two pieces of the Captain's flowery pink stationery, one sheet on top of the other. They appeared to have been crumpled up, as though someone had intended to throw them away but had second thoughts about it. She really would have turned around and left, but written on the topmost piece of paper, in the Captain's neat, old-fashioned calligraphy, was her name.
Her heart skipped.
She tiptoed around the desk, stepping over trash and bottles of sake and food packaging, and bent over the pink papers. It appeared to be a letter…for her. She knew she shouldn't read it, but her unrelenting curiosity got the best of her. As she began to read, she chuckled at the first sentence, which had been crossed out.
Nanao,
Before you decide to throw this away, you should know that this isn't a poem. I decided I should write to you about the situation with my Valentine's Day gift. I really wanted to tell you this in person, but I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. Every time I wanted to talk to you in your office, I could sense that you would get uneasy, so I decided not to press the issue. You seem like you've been needing space lately, so I wanted to oblige.
Nanao could feel her cheeks growing warm as she continued to read.
I want you to know that I am not angry with you for avoiding me, though I am a little hurt. You mean a lot to me. And not just as my Vice Captain. Nanao, I've missed you.
Nanao's breath held.
I care for you. I don't know how else to say it. I know I can get carried away, but you should know that my tokens of affection have always come from a sincere place. You know that I'm not a liar.
Your hard work, your dedication, and skill—it motivates your subordinates, and me. Your work ethic is second to none and keeps my Division running smoothly. I mean, have you seen my desk lately? Yama-jii has been bragging to me about all the time you've been saving his Vice Captain because of the re-organization stuff. That is the Nanao that inspires me.
Nanao's heart swelled with pride.
Despite my casual exterior, I am not easily impressed by anyone. But over the years, you have won my admiration and respect. Your intellectual prowess, your voracious curiosity, and your outstanding attention to detail have proved over and over again that I made the correct choice in selecting you as my second. I saw your great potential early on, and you've proven me right.
I've kept it no secret that I also believe you to be a stunning, beautiful woman. I don't quite remember when my admiration for you developed from professional to romantic. It was probably the day you were instated as my Vice Captain. I'll never forget how you were holding back tears after all of your hard work had paid off.
As Nanao flipped the page, she could feel her throat clenching with emotion. Her induction as Vice Captain was the proudest moment of her life.
The next day, I tried flirting with you, and as expected, you refused my advances like the professional you are. It was fun for a while, teasing you, but as time went on, I realized that I'd probably ruined it for myself forever. I didn't care. As long as I still had you by my side as my Vice Captain, I could bear that fan of yours. I still can't believe I'm the one who gave you that thing as an instatement gift. What was I thinking? You can be so cruel to me, you know?
Nanao chuckled aloud, wiping at her eye.
Even though I want you to accept all my gifts, I really, really hoped you would accept the Venus perfume. It seemed so perfect for you. I really loved the scent, too. I thought it was really exquisite. I did take a risk in giving it to you, so I cannot begin to describe how thrilled I was that you were finally receptive to one of my presents.
And then you started avoiding me. Though I am a little hurt, the fact that you've been keeping your distance makes me wonder whether, by some incredible stroke of luck, that what I've desired for so long has come true. I've tossed and turned every night since then, mulling over the possibility that I might mean more to you than my role as your Captain. And that is the purpose of this letter. To explain to you in writing what is difficult to express out loud, but also to ask you whether there is even a sliver of a chance that you might accept this undeserving old man as something more.
I will respect whatever answer you give me, Nanao.
–Shunsui
With tears now rolling freely down her face, Nanao set the letter down, carefully replacing the pages so that the letter looked like it had not been touched. Before anyone could see her, she shunpoed home.