Author's comments: Here goes part two. Thank you for reviewing.) After this there will be one more chapter and it will be longer than this one, so… unfortunately, you'll have to wait until I translate it (the whole THREE goddamned A4 sheets of paper with 8th font size with an ancient dictionary and no decent net traffic at work - I'll die, arghh).
All right, I admit it. I am shamefully running away from him around the whole Seireitei. The only place, where our roads cross, are Yamamoto-sensei's captain meetings. Sometimes I even have to use shunpo to avoid running into him. I am truly pitiful.
All this nerves… to tell the truth, I'm awfully tired of it all. Furthermore, it seems that now I'll have to face serious consequences for that idiotic run under the rain. With each day I am feeling myself worse and worse. So that eventually I have no choice but to give myself in to Unohana-sempai. She is frowning and looking at me with such displeasure that I wish I didn't. I think if Unohana could just let herself show some anger, I would've been immediately crucified on the nearest wall.
Her prognosis is not encouraging. And after I am stuffed with medicine I am sent home with a strict order to sleep. I summon up all my strength, realizing that I won't be enjoying the next few days in the least. How long would it take this time? A week or two? Or maybe I'll be bedridden for half of a year like last time… Thoughts about my illness distract me from thinking about Kyouraku, and at least for that I am grateful to my damned tuberculosis.
In the evening I can already feel how the fiery heat is rising inside my body. I bury myself in the blankets and try to stifle coughing. Kotetsu and Kotsubaki bother me by dropping in my room to check on me every ten minutes and by that letting the night cold in along with them. I really like these two young kids, always arguing about every little thing, but sometimes I am forced to admit that they can be way too troublesome. At last my patience reaches its limit and there are steel notes in my voice when I dismiss them till morning.
The door closes behind them, and I cough again, coughing up a blood clot to one of the prepared for me kerchiefs. My lungs are burning. Breathing sounds more like wheezing. I constantly wipe the sweat off my brow. This is not the strongest attack, provoked by a simple cold, that I managed to get through during my life, but after a long break it still seems too severe. As if my lungs can be torn to pieces any moment, and I'll spit them out with blood.
I don't know for how long I fidget on the futon before a pitiful semblance of sleep claims me.
In the middle of the night I dream that someone puts a cold, wet rag on my forehead and wipes the sweat off. The cold on a burning skin feels like heaven, and I lean involuntary into the thoughtful hand. But I am too tired to look whose hand it is.
Days drag on painfully slow. I can barely stand on my feet during the light of day to get to the toilet and let Kotsubaki and Kotetsu change the sheets and dirty kerchiefs. Unohana comes every day, injecting different medicine into my body, and promises that the attack won't last too long. I eat nothing except broth, but even it makes me sick.
At night I can feel someone's presence, and the same careful hand wipes with a cold towel blood off my lips and sweat off my brow. One of these nights I force myself to open the eyes despite that my eyelids seem to be filled with lead. The room is dark, my vision is blurred, but Kyouraku's pink kimono can't be mistaken for anything else. I try to say something, but manage to just open my mouth, and the coughing fit catches me. He helps me to lie on my side, because this way it's easier and safer to spit out the blood, and after I rinse my mouth he helps me to lie back and wipes my face with a towel.
I want to thank him, but I can't, and instead - I reach for his wide palm and try to squeeze it with my fingers. He takes my hand into his and, smiling, begins to stroke it with slow, calming movements. I fall asleep gradually, feeling the warmth of his hand and knowing that I am safe. When the morning comes, he is not there.
I am being ill for about a week more, and can always feel Kyouraku near my futon in the harshest hours of night. He holds my hand, and somehow the illness becomes easier to bear. A week after the fever thankfully goes down, and Unohana is smiling openly, promising that she will get me up in no time.
When the illness finally abates, I am pretty much exhausted, and have to gain the lost weight by – literally – devouring lots of food and vitamins. But I am content that I can start working again, even if it is only paper work for now.
Several days pass, and only then I do notice that something is missing. I freeze with a pen in my hand and pale, when the understanding hits me. Kyouraku doesn't come anymore, doesn't ask my lieutenants about me and is nowhere to be seen at all.
I put on some warm clothes, because it is rather cold outside and head to his office. I try not to remember what happened before I got sick, otherwise my determination will sink into oblivion.
His office meets me with a strained silence. I can't find Kyouraku inside and for some time just walk round the building, and then start my search for Nanao. It is strange, but I can't find the girl anywhere also.
Worry begins to writhe somewhere in my stomach, and my step quickens.
Yamamoto-sensei scolds me for walking after the fit in such a cold weather, but soon his tirade suddenly stops, perhaps, because he notices the echoes of worry in my eyes. I apologize and ask him the only question I am interested in right now. Where the hell is Kyouraku?
The old man avoids looking me in the eye, sits more comfortably in his chair and quietly answers.
Seems like not all arrancars were killed during the last fight with Aizen. A couple of pretty strong ones managed to survive and their existence was now threatening the whole Soul Society, so that's why the eighth division was sent to Hueco Mundo to deal with the problem. Kyouraku personally volunteered to take on the mission.
I go back home, mind reeling in shock. Even after Aizen's death a walk in the world of hollows – is definitely not like a walk in the park.
For about an hour I rummage through the papers, mind not really set on work. And then my fingers clench into fists by themselves and with a roar I sweep the stack of papers together with an ink-pod and a cup of tea off the table. I lower my head, feeling the painful ache deep inside my heart.
My palm is burning – right where Kyouraku was tenderly moving his fingers during the nights, making the shivers run up and down my arm.
My body suddenly cramps with one and only silent prayer.
Come back safely. Please.
Two weeks pass before Yamamoto-sensei finally gives me permission to leave for Hueco Mundo. And I'm sure - only because otherwise I'd have driven the whole Gotei completely mad.
But what other choices were left for me? The eighth division had come back safely, but without their captain, who foolishly decided to track one of the surviving arrancars all by himself and sent others home.
I've lasted out the whole two weeks. Two weeks of constant worry and troubled dreams, of warm memories of his touch and smile. Two weeks of agony. My damned illness can't even dare to be compared with these feelings. Perhaps Genryuusai and others are sure that Kyouraku is all right, but I can't wait anymore. I have to find that drunkard. He would be better off just staying in Seireitei and drinking himself to death.
The only things I take with me are a black and white cape and my zanpakutou. No haori. Don't want any unnecessary attention, do I?
Right now I am as strong as ever, and the black abyss of Garganta doesn't scare me at all.
I descend to the world of hollows, sand rustles under my feet, and I pull on the cape, which conceals my reiatsu, with white side up, blending with the desert.
I follow the route of the eighth division until I reach the place, where Kyouraku took off on his own. Sand gets into my clothes, dares to jump into my mouth and makes my eyes water. I almost don't see any hollows on the way, and the ones I stumble across jump aside, avoiding me like the plague. Smart fellows.
I am forced to make several quite long circles on the area before I manage to come upon - supposedly - Kyouraku's trail. I frown anxiously because the trail is – blood, dried up on the rocky sand. I don't know whose blood it is – Kyouraku's or arrancar's. I go forward, sometimes losing the trail, but trying to orient myself with the other stains.
Gradually sand turns into low hills, and then suddenly these low hills fly high up and turn into rocky mountains of a dull black color. I throw my cape the black side on and look around. There are many small caves, and I can see a ravine not too far.
It's not very easy to search the dried blood on the black stones, I think with annoyance, continuing to move forward. I almost miss it, but the metallic glitter makes me stop. It turns out to be a piece of steel. Though not a part of Kyouraku's zanpakutou, I realize with some amount of relief.
I decide to inspect the area more closely and soon come to conclusion, that the fight took place right here. There are some traces of a sword hitting the stones, and one can see the deep cracks in the rocky slopes as if someone was thrown or knocked there with full-force… Squinting, I can finally discern the blood in several places.
After some doubts I turn towards the ravine and soon understand that I wasn't wrong. Behind the second turning I find the arrancar – thankfully, dead. But there is Katen Kyoukotsu, jutting out of his chest and stomach, and it makes me genuinely worry, because I can't imagine Kyouraku leaving his zanpakutou just like this.
I pull the katana and wakizashi out of the enemy's body, quickly rub the blood off them and somehow hook them on to my own sheath, where Sougyo no Kotowari slumbers. After making sure that the fallen arrancar is dead for good, I go forward, and my step quickens. The dried blood under my feet doesn't fill me with enthusiasm at all. And a small cave, where the trace ends, meets me with an ominously opened-wide mouth. I clench my fists and dive into the darkness.
I have to make a small bundle of light with my reiatsu, because it is pitch dark inside. But I don't have to go deep, because next minute I stumble at something… look down and suddenly I am feeling as if I'm ready to die right here from the terrible sight in front of me.
He lies face down on cold stones in a puddle of dried blood. Unconscious, haori and kimono torn to shreds, body covered with barely skinned over wounds and dirt, hair all tangled and in blood. For a second it seems like he is dead, and I fall on my knees near him to embrace his shoulders and kiss the pale face. But a faint breath makes me freeze and gives me hope.
When I try to move him to examine his wounds closer, he suddenly moans and opens his eyes a little bit.
- Juu… chan. You came… for me.
- Of course, - I nod, fighting back tears. Perhaps he wants to reach out for me with his hand, but all he manages to do is move his fingers a little. He smiles tiredly.
- What a nice… dream…
He falls unconscious again and doesn't wake up anymore. Even when I somehow lift him on to my back. He is awfully heavy, there is a long way ahead, but I'll be damned if I don't manage to carry him to Garganta.
Unohana and all the forth division are in shock when I appear in Seireitei with my barely alive burden. Retsu fusses over the wounded without a break for several days, and all this time I pace behind the closed door like a sentry. Yamamoto-sensei comes every day, ignoring my furious stare, but I know, that the old man definitely feels some guilt, otherwise he wouldn't bring his ass here every day.
A week later Kyouraku regains consciousness and Unohana, looking satisfied, finally lets me in. For a long time I sit near him in silence, and when he falls asleep I take his palm into mine and begin to caress every millimeter of skin on his hand with careful touch. In his sleep he moves closer to my hand and I can't help stroking his still tangled hair.
Before leaving I leave Katen Kyoukotsu in the new custom-made sheath on the table.
I feel myself drained. At home I stand still for a long time in the middle of my room.
I am exhausted. Physically and emotionally. I have hardly slept all these days, while Unohana tried to save his life.
I fall on my futon and look out of the window. I want so much for the rain to pour down, but behind the window there is only the annoyingly bright and shining sun.
My head is empty, and no sound reaches me.
Like if I was deafened.
Oh, yes… I remember suddenly.
It was silent in Hueco Mundo. Just like now.
Days flit by, and even Zaraki, usually interested only in fighting, starts to notice that something is wrong with Kyouraku. He doesn't wear his pink kimono and straw hat, he is clean-shaven every day, and his kosode and hakama smell of freshness of clean clothes. He dives into his work and doesn't drink sake anymore. Nanao and I are in shock, because there are also no any records of bringing women to his bed. Yamamoto-sensei, looking at all this decent glory, scratches his beard thoughtfully and disapprovingly shakes his head. All of the questions about his new "style" Kyouraku ignores or just smiles evasively, saying some idiotic nonsense that a captain of Gotei-13 should set a good example for his subordinates. He has changed so much in the last days, that Kurotsuchi absolutely seriously suggests to take him to his laboratory and perform a couple of experiments to find out whether something happened to him in Hueco Mundo.
My patience reaches its limit, when during one of the captains' meetings Kyouraku calls the old man
'Yamamoto-sensei' instead of 'Yama-jii'. Genryuusai is sitting on his chair, staring wide-eyed at Kyouraku, mouth opened too, and I flare out in fury, grab Kyouraku by the shoulder and nearly kick him out of the meeting hall. The captains watch in shock as the door slams behind us.
Kyouraku stays silent until I drag him down the stairs – far from the curious ears. We stop only at the foot of the stairs, and I try desperately to catch his eye. But he doesn't look at me, raises his hand to pull the hat, which is not there, over his eyes, and winces, realizing that with this move he has just given himself away.
- What the hell is this show for? – I ask him sternly.
- I don't understand what you mean, Juushirou, - answers he and only shrugs his shoulders in response to my other questions.
Why the hell does he behave himself like that? I jerkily grab hold of his kosode front and pin him against the column. He is not resisting, and there is the same indifferent expression on his face, which pisses me off indescribably.
- Stop lying to me, enough, Shunsui! Just tell me! – I am almost shouting now and I can't stop. I am on the verge of a breakdown.
His move is so fast, that I don't have time to react. A second ago I was pinning him to a white cold stone, and now the positions have switched, and he presses me into the column with all his body… Gods, this is heaven.
He leans to me and whispers so quietly, that I can barely make out the words.
- Are you sure you want to know the answer?
He doesn't give me a chance to reply and I'm not really sure that it would have been "yes".
A second… and I find myself free, standing alone, holding onto the column, trying to even out my breathing.
What was that? What did I miss? It can't be that all this time…
No-no-no, it's definitely my imagination, all this dreams and hints… Maybe I simply want this to turn out to be truth too much, that's why…
I frown, realizing that I don't understand anything at all. I'm tired and I need a drink. I should get back to the meeting though, but… I send it all to hell and go home, grabbing a bottle of sake in a small shop by the way. I hope Yamamoto-sensei won't be angry too much…
Day turns into evening. From time to time I refill my cup of sake, lying comfortably on the futon, thinking about everything that transpired in the last months and trying to come out with an answer what I should do. Somewhere in the middle of the night a crazy thought finds its way into my thoughts, and I lie motionless for a long time. I taste the thought from different angles and find it to my liking. A drunken smile forms on my lips. I swear to myself to realize the plan no matter what the cost.
In the morning I'm terrified of what I have thought up, but there is no way back. I stay at home for a week, don't let Kotsubaki and Kotetsu in and even find the courage to tell Unohana to go away when she comes to check up whether I am down with fever again. One time it seems as if I can almost hear Kyouraku's voice, talking with my officers, but, perhaps, it's my own imagination. In any case no one bothers me anymore, and a week later I am ready to realize my plan.
I arrive to the captains' meeting in all my glory. That is…
Hair is tangled and pulled up into a disheveled pony-tail; unshaved, with quite impressing stubble; with red in flowers kimono over my haori and a straw hat, which I pull over my eyes to not die from laughter after seeing the reaction on captains' faces. Seems like Hitsugaya has finally come to a conclusion, that the eldest two captains of Gotei-13 has gone completely mad. Yamamoto-sensei sits with a stone face, looking at me from head to toe and groaning a little, but whether from shock or just suppressing laughter I don't know. Kyouraku stands near, eyes are absolutely crazy, and I smile at him in his favorite playful manner. His eyes are on me until the end of the meeting, but I successfully avoid him and go home. Straight into hitting the bottle.
My lieutenants are terrified when they have to drag me to bed with force from the nearest bar. I keep this charade on for the whole three weeks, and the gossips about "ah, how low poor Ukitake-taichou has fallen" fly around Seireitei with the speed of light. Every day I flirt with women, though I don't try to seduce them, of course. But people love to exaggerate, so sometimes these gossips reach such a spicy level, that I am roaring with laughter at nights.
Be that as it may, but I don't have the same length of alcoholic experience like Kyouraku does, and every morning I look worse and worse. No one cancelled the hangover yet. Despite that I understand that I have achieved some results, when three weeks later in the evening Kyouraku storms into the bar with a thunderous expression on his face and grabs me in his arms, dragging me out of the group of beautiful girls. I am feeling high and laugh all the way, stumbling here and there.
He leads me into a deep alley in the nearest park, and before I open my mouth to say something, he is already embracing me, leaning his head on my shoulder. I can hear desperation, almost tears, in his voice, and I listen to him and feel myself ashamed, suddenly realizing that the game has been going for far too long.
- That's enough, enough, please, you are not like this. Don't... I'll do everything you want, just stop tormenting yourself so much. Don't… anymore, - he whispers hectically, hands tightening around me. I am silent and instead of answering I embrace him. I don't know for how long we just stand here, but the warmth of his hands and body slowly envelops me, and I know that I'd gladly spend the rest of my life – or an eternity - just like this…
I am really very tired, add to that the amount of sake I poured inside my stomach again, so I can't resist the sudden drowsiness, drawn by this wonderful warmth. The earth under my legs disappears, and I feel myself being lifted in the air – is he carrying me like I am some silly young girl? Ah, but I don't care, can't even open my eyes, though I can hear how Kotetsu and Kotsubaki fuss, opening the doors for him.
He lowers me on the futon, takes off my red kimono and covers me with a blanket. The last thing I feel is a light touch of his lips to my forehead.
I fall asleep.
The show is over, ladies and gentlemen.