A/N: While I was slightly disappointed with the lack of response to the last chapter, I feel it is partly my fault if interest waned because of the delay in updating. So, I finished the new chapter and here it is, all pristine and shiny just for you! Please review, I'd like to gain some feedback over whether this is too long or not. If people are losing interest I could just write an alternate ending to the previous chapter and end the story there instead of finishing what I have planned. Hope you enjoy the chapter!
Tossed Aside
Chapter Seven: After the Incident
Nanao could barely open her eyes the next morning. Her head was pounding dully every time she moved; a combination of the alcohol she had drunk and her prolonged tears the night before.
She had never had less of an inclination to go into the office before in her life, even in her first days as Fukutaichō of the Eighth Division.
She sat up slowly in bed, leaning back against the headboard. Nanao was certain had she not engaged in her lengthy display of emotion the night before and thoroughly dehydrated herself, she would be crying again.
What have I done? Nanao thought for the umpteenth time since her return home. I've ruined everything.
She glanced at the clock she kept on her beside table.
She was late for work.
Very late for work.
So late in fact, that she had completely missed the vice-captain's meeting that morning. While this usually would have jarred Nanao into an efficient tornado of action, she could not muster the energy to care. She had kissed her captain, and very nearly ended up sleeping with him. This was not only a serious violation of professionalism, but did not coincide with Nanao's vision of where her life was going.
The problem was that she didn't know where she wanted her life to go anymore and she hadn't for a while.
What do you want, Nanao? Her Taichō's voice mocked her.
"I don't know!" she thundered in fury to the mid-morning silence of her room. Her uncontrolled reiatsu left her in a burst of light and wind, shocking her. It had been years since she had lost control so easily. Had he really affected her that much?
Clamping down her undulating emotions away with cold precision, Nanao went about her usual morning routine. She meticulously made the bed, smoothing away any undesired wrinkles from the surface of the comforter. Padding her way to the bathroom of the small apartment, she turned the tap for the water on high, letting the liquid stream warm and inviting into the porcelain tub. While she was fetching a towel from the cabinet in the corner, Nanao was distracted by a hesitant knock on the door.
Her eyes widened behind her glasses. No one can see me like this, she thought despairingly.
"Ise Fukutaichō?" a hesitant female voice called through the door. It must be one of the newer recruits since Nanao did not recognize the voice. "Umm, Ise Fukutaichō are you in there? Matsumoto Fukutaichō stopped by the office this morning after the meeting. She said you never showed up and Kyōraku Taichō sent me to see if you were alright."
He was worried about me? Shouldn't he be angry?
Shaking her head to clear her addled thoughts, Nanao cleared her throat. "I'm fine," she called, coming to stand on the other side of the door. "I felt a little bit under the weather this morning. Tell Kyōraku Taichō I'll be down to the office as soon as I can."
Nanao cringed at the lie and guessed that her Taichō would see right through it, but at least it would buy her some time to think.
She returned to the bathroom, undressing quickly. She eased herself slowly into the water, feeling her knotted muscles relax almost on contact. Bathing was difficult as her shoulder was still slightly sore, and she attempted to do everything one-handed to help expedite the healing process. Despite her best efforts to keep her mind on other things, she couldn't prevent her thoughts from drifting.
When she was younger, in her Academy days, Nanao had dreamt, just like any other young girl. In the quiet of her room, she harbored the secret desire to become the greatest kidō master in all of Seireitei. Once, she had thought to be the captain of the Fourth Division, but when her zanpakutō held no ability to heal she was forced to push that idea to the side. Nevertheless, she had always envisioned herself in a white haori, sitting behind her own large desk and running her own division as she saw fit.
But that was before she was transferred to the Eighth Division.
Through the first few trying weeks, Nanao was not so sure that any position was worth it if it meant she had to put up with her new, womanizing, pink haori-clad, inebriated Taichō. Nanao stuck it out though, determined not to be so easily run off as the others. Over time, she had eventually learned to see behind the silly presents and detested nickname, to find a captain worthy of following. And, because Nanao believed in loyalty to those who deserved it above all else, she had dedicated the following decades to running the division with him.
If Nanao was honest with herself, she was happy where she was. She had the respect of most of the shinigami in Seireitei, was renowned as a kidō elite, and held the record for lasting the longest length of time as the fukutaichō of the Eighth Division. All of her predecessors had given up within mere months after their promotions.
She had never really contemplated romance and all the complications that went with it. She had dated a few men at the Academy but none of them truly sparked her interest. The only one who had, had left Nanao for another girl who, "wasn't so plain."
Perhaps this was part of the reason that Nanao was constantly annoyed by her Captain's affections. A part of her would always doubt that he truly meant them. She could no longer deny after the previous night that she wanted them to be sincere. For some reason she hadn't quite figured out, she was severely attracted to her Taichō.
She wanted him, yes. It would be easy to have him that way if she chose to; all she had to do was say the words. But it wasn't quite so clean and simple, as last night had proven.
If she could barely face her Taichō after their. . . incident, how would she ever be able to face him if they slept together? What would happen when their relationship ended, as it was inevitably bound to do when he grew tired of her, just like all the other women? What would she do when he moved on to 'someone less plain?' How could she go on having to see him every single day?
Nanao knew she wouldn't be able to. She would have to transfer squads, and then, even if they managed to keep their relationship a secret, everyone would know that something had occurred between them. And seeing as most of Seireitei had bets going as to when her Captain would finally wear her down, she knew that if people assumed the worst, it wouldn't be that far from the truth.
Nanao traced the scar that ran the length of her torso, biting her lip as she viewed the puckered flesh. It's so ugly, was all she could think. If she had been plain before she didn't want to contemplate what she would be called now. She didn't regret her choice, though. She couldn't. Her Taichō might have lived had she not done what she did, but her action was the only thing that ensured his safety.
Sighing, Nanao acknowledged the fact that she had to face her Taichō sometime. She submerged herself in the cooling tub, rinsing off the errant bubbles from her lavender soap. A loud knock on the door startled her, causing her to inhale a large amount of water. She dragged herself out of the tub, spluttering and coughing as her lungs protested against the soapy liquid.
"Nanao-chan are you in there?" There was no mistaking that voice, that reiatsu. Panicking, she shoved herself out of the bath.
"Are you alright? Will you please just open the door Nanao, this is ridiculous!" Shunsui's voice echoed through her small apartment. Nanao hurriedly attempted to find her glasses, but with the soap stinging her eyes she wasn't having much luck.
"Nanao if you don't open this door, I'm going to break it down!"
"No," she breathed, attempting to dry herself. "Not my d―" she broke off her thought however, as the door to her apartment was ripped off its hinges with a resounding bang. She wrapped the towel securely around her, and finally finding her glasses, dashed out into the apartment, still dripping to assess the damage. Hopefully, she could head off her Taichō before he made any real progress into her quarters.
"Nanao," he called from the living room, his voice filled with panic. She heard the rustle of silk as she rounded the corner. If she didn't know any better she'd say he was hurrying. Kyōraku Taichō never hurried to do anything.
"Nanao are you―" he trailed off as they simultaneously rounded the corner into the small hallway at opposite ends. Their eyes met, and Nanao's breath caught as Shunsui let his out in a sigh of relief.
"You're alright," he said, smiling softly.
"Of course I'm alright," she huffed, embarrassed and confused. "What's so important that you had to knock my door down to tell me?"
He stared at her wide-eyed. "You never came into the office today. I sent that cute little new recruit to check on you. She said you'd claimed you weren't feeling well. When you didn't come down to the office after an hour I began to worry, so I came to see for myself. When you didn't answer the door, I was scared your wounds had reopened and you were bleeding all over the floor."
"I'm fine," she assured, blushing scarlet as his gaze swept perceptively over her towel-clad frame. She clutched the towel to her chest as an awkward silence filled the space between them, broken only by the sound of dripping water as it ran off of Nanao's body and collected in a puddle by her feet.
"Were you avoiding me this morning, Nanao?" he asked her softly, leaning his broad frame against the wall and looking at her intently.
"No, Taichō," she lied, adjusting her glasses with one hand.
"You're lying to me, Nanao-chan," he contradicted. "You just adjusted your glasses; you always do that when you're either nervous or lying."
Another strained silenced passed between them until Nanao could no longer stand it.
"Taichō, I…" she trailed off, staring at the floor. She had no idea what to say to him after they had been so intimate.
"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable last night, Nanao," he began and relief washed over her in a warm wave. He had apologized, she would forgive him and they could forget it ever happened.
"It's understandable, Taichō, we both had a little too much to drink―"
"I wasn't drunk last night, Nanao and neither were you," he stated matter-of-factly. "I was going to say that I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable last night but it was one of those things which had to be said."
Nanao glared at him from beneath her water-flecked frames.
"No it didn't Taicho," she said as anger blossomed inside of her. Wasn't it he who had backed her into a corner and kissed her senseless? How dare he take it upon himself to ruin their relationship to fulfill his selfish desires.
"None of it had to be said," she fumed. "Why did you have to ruin everything? What are we supposed to do now? Every time I see you all I can think of is…" she trailed off, bowing her head and attempting to rein her anger in.
"Is what, Nanao?" he asked, pushing himself off of the wall and coming to stand in front of her. "How glorious it felt? Ah, Nanao," he said, wrapping her in his embrace. "There is so much more I could show you if you'd only give me the chance."
She shook her head, meeting his gaze with a desperate defiance. "Taichō, kindly remove your arms from me this instant," she stated, feeling more confident that their conversation was back on familiar territory.
"You didn't seem to mind my arms so much last night, Nanao-chan," he teased, pulling her in closer.
Okay, maybe it was not so familiar territory.
"Sir, this is highly inappropriate. What if someone should walk by and see us like this?" She took a step backwards, inching toward the neatly stacked pile of books in the corner of the hallway, which she had yet to sort categorically and alphabetically onto the shelves that ran around her entire apartment.
"Then they will just be jealous that they are not in my position," he replied, angling his head and leaning slightly closer. She reached an arm behind her, leaning as far back out of his embrace as possible without losing her balance. Her hand grasped the corner of one large tome and Nanao grinned inwardly in triumph.
"You aren't really going to hit me with that very large book you have hidden behind your back if I try to kiss you, are you, my lovely Nanao-chan?" Her eyes widened in surprise.
"How did you know I had a book?" she questioned suspiciously.
"Because Nanao," he replied simply. "Wherever you are, there's bound to be a book somewhere. I just happened to have an incredible run of good fortune last night."
His calloused hand traced her bare shoulder and she couldn't repress a shiver. That look was back in his eyes and Nanao knew she had to end this now before she gave in again and made things even more complicated.
"Taichō, I will ask you one last time to let go of me," Nanao said as coldly as she could muster.
"Never, Nanao," he replied determinedly, cupping her neck to bring their lips together once more.
WHACK.
"Yare, Nanao!" he cried, rubbing his cheek, reddened by the force of Nanao's blow. "Did you have to hit your poor Taichō so hard?"
"I did warn you," she said. "Now, if you'll remove yourself from my quarters, I can be in the office in fifteen minutes and we can start on all of the paperwork you neglected this week."
Shunsui sighed sadly. "So we're back to this then, are we?"
There was something in his tone that surprised Nanao. He sounded as if he had just been … rejected.
Without thinking, she laid a hand on his arm in a comforting motion. "For the time being, yes. I just…need some time to think."
As Nanao's brow knit in confusion, clad in only a towel, she was breathtakingly adorable. Shunsui wondered when he had learned to control himself so well, seeing as he usually wasn't one for delaying gratification of any kind.
"Can I at least give you something to think about, Nanao-chan?" he asked hopefully.
"You are so infuriating!" she cried in frustration, placing a forceful shove to his chest as she made to brush past him into the bedroom, forgetting the puddle of water on the floor.
Unprepared, Shunsui slipped and lost his balance, falling to the floor. As his hand was still grasping Nanao's towel at the time and Nanao was still clinging protectively to the piece of fabric, he unintentionally dragged her down with him.
They landed with a dull thud and a small grunt of pain from Shunsui, who immediately found the bright light in the situation when he realized that a scantily clad Nanao was sprawled across his chest.
"Yare, yare, Nanao-chan," he sighed dramatically. "If you made up your mind that quickly, all you had to do was tell me." Blushing furiously, Nanao huffed indignantly, sitting up as best as she could given the situation. Shunsui wondered how long it would take her to notice she was straddling his waist in a very provocative position.
She had very little time to consider it however, as the moment Nanao went to open her mouth to form a bumbling apology; a concerned looking Matsumoto Rangiku rounded the corner.
"Ise, are you al―" she broke of mid-sentence, her eyes bulging comically. "Oh gods!" she exclaimed, her hand covering her mouth in shock as her eyes absorbed their position and Nanao's current state of undress.
A/N: Another chapter completed. Review or I'll hire you out as personal assistant to Don Kanoji. Boo ha ha ha!
P.S. Does anyone know what squad Nanao originated from before she became V.C. of the Eighth? Pwese? It's important to my plot development.