I changed the title to something that annoys me less. The summary has been changed too, and the rating updated. The chapters have been edited to reflect the change in the title. Everything remains the same.

Now that this preliminary note is out of the way, on with the chapter!

One Moment
Chapter 5: The Cut Sleeve

Characters/Pairings: Starrk, Lilynette, Shunsui, Ukitake, and Aizen. Not-implied-anymore Aizen/Starrk, implied Ukitake/Kaien and Kaien/Miyako. Progress on the Shunsui/Starrk front.
Rating: R for implications and themes.
Words: ~7000
Chapter Summary: Shunsui figures out something, and goes to Ukitake for help. Starrk is revisited by a memory.
Warning: Aizen is in this chapter.

"Are you angry?"

Starrk opened his eyes. He was dozing off a little in the spot where the sunlight shone through the window during this time of the day. Lilynette had been staring out of the window towards the skies ever since they came back to the room, watching the sun's movements, and he was waiting.

He sat up immediately, folding his arms above his knees. Taking in the insecurity written all over her face, Starrk sighed.

"A little," he shrugged.

"Why?" Lilynette shouted, immediately coming to his side.

"I'm not mad because you didn't tell me," Starrk explained, dragging a hand through his hair. "But I am a little angry that you didn't tell me because you think I would leave you if I knew." He tilted his head up to look at her.

Lilynette looked at him for a long moment before she dropped down to sit next to him. Starrk lifted his arm, letting her lean against his chest. The weight of her mask fragment against his ribs was a little uncomfortable, but he had long grown used to it.

"I was scared, Starrk," she said quietly. "I didn't know what you would do if you knew." She tugged at her ends of his hair. "And… I knew you wouldn't leave because you were angry. Maybe for a little while, but we always made up after our fights. But I knew that you would be stupid enough to leave me because you think that would be better for me. You would go off and be alone and probably get killed because I think I could find a pack or something."

Starrk blinked, hearing his own thoughts echoed in her words.

"You promised that we will always be together," Lilynette muttered into his chest. "We both promised. I'll never want you to leave."

"We'll go everywhere," Starrk repeated the promise they both made. He pressed a kiss on top of her mask fragment, knowing she would feel it. "Together."

"Always?" Lilynette's voice was small.

Starrk nodded. "Always."

She pulled away from him for a moment, checking his eyes for lies. Then, slowly, she nodded.

They stayed there like that for a long while, huddling together like they used to in the empty desert. In the past, they did it to stave off the chill emanating from the mountains of bones that surrounded them, the chill that came from the sorrow that knifed through their nerves whenever they saw someone approach and immediately died.

"Lilynette?"

"Mm?"

"What did you say to taichou-san?"

Lilynette tipped her head up, blinking at him before she shrugged. She didn't need to ask him which Captain he meant.

"I told him to not bother you about the stuff with Aizen anymore," she sighed. "At least, that's what I thought I said. The stupid bastard will probably warp it again."

Starrk blinked. "I thought you were talking about reading," he said tentatively.

"I was talking to him about the Aizen stuff until he changed the topic to reading," she huffed. "He seems really… I don't know. Fixated on the subject."

Which probably didn't mean anything good for either of them.

If there was one thing that Starrk learned from his battle with Kyouraku, it was that the man's every word and movement was calculated for a certain reason, a certain purpose. Everything was meant to fulfil a goal… or more than one goal.

It made Kyouraku a difficult man to read, and an even more difficult man to trust. Beneath the cheerful, bumbling behaviour was a man more like Aizen Sousuke than most realised; a man who was surely as ruthless as Starrk's previous master. And his friend, the white-haired Captain… he was just the same. Despite the sincerity of his kindness, Starrk knew that he wouldn't hesitate to kill if he thought it was the right thing to do.

The Shinigami were all manipulative creatures. Aizen, Ichimaru, Kyouraku, Ukitake… they were all the same.

Still, what ulterior motive might the two Captains have in teaching them how to read? Starrk couldn't figure it out.

"Starrk?" Lilynette nudged him. "You didn't fall asleep, did you?"

He shook his head. "Maybe we can give it a try," he said quietly. "Maybe we can just go for a few lessons at first. At the very least, we can see what they are planning." He swallowed.

"And if we can read then… then we don't need to rely on what other people tell us. We can figure it out by ourselves."

They didn't have to trust that what was told to them was the truth. Perhaps that was Kyouraku and Ukitake's purpose; perhaps they were being kind, in their own way, by giving Starrk and Lilynette a choice whether to trust.

The problem with believing that such kindness could actually exist. The even bigger problem was that Starrk knew that if he believed, he would trust the two of them more automatically.

But then, sometimes having a choice wasn't having a choice at all. A bastard's willing whore, Grimmjow had called him, and Starrk knew it was true. He chose to go with Aizen that first time; and he had continued to go to him even when he suspected the man was treating him like a toy. Sometimes being given a choice meant that he was falling even deeper into the abyss.

His mind was tying itself into knots.

In that one moment, Starrk longed desperately for the simplicity of the desert. His chest hurt. He wished he could trust as blindly as he once had, but he knew better now.

"We'll tell them that we can stop the lessons whenever we want." Lilynette said firmly. She hesitated, and said, far more uncertainly, "They will agree to that, right?"

They both knew better now.

Starrk closed his eyes. He wanted to sleep. He always stopped thinking when he slept.

"I don't know," he said. "I really don't know, Lilynette."

She tugged at the ends of his hair again. Her smile was smaller than usual. "Well, at least we can try," she said. "Stop being such a wuss, Starrk."

Slowly, he cracked a smile at her. "I suppose so."

Lilynette nodded. She pushed at his shoulder, and Starrk fell over easily onto the floor. "I'll tell one of them in the morning," she said. "Now stay there so I can sleep on you. I'm tired."

"You have your own futon," Starrk pointed out, but he didn't protest when she flopped on top of him.

"You're more comfortable," she said, tucking her face into his shoulder. Her small hand clenched over the collar of his clothes, refusing to let go.

Starrk wrapped his arm around her back. "Okay."

It had been a while since the two of them had slept like this, almost every inch of their bodies touching where it was possible to touch. But after the day they had… after all that had happened…

He needed the reassurance too.

The next morning, Shunsui woke up to Nanao-chan's irritation about 'the missing Arrancar'. Lilynette was accounted for – Ukitake had sent over a hell butterfly to say that she was with him, and Shunsui hoped that this meant that she, at least, would be taking up on the offer of reading and writing lessons – so that left Starrk.

Thinking for a moment, Shunsui chuckled to himself. He placated Nanao-chan, telling her that he would find his charge, before going straight to the rooftop.

He found Starrk sitting on the edge of the roof, legs drawn up against his chest as he stared out towards the mid-morning sky. Shunsui opened his mouth for a greeting, but decided to close it and sit down next to Starrk instead.

Turning his eyes up, he followed Starrk's gaze to the skies. His mind sped through several possible conversation openers: he wanted to know what it was that Lilynette and he talked about last night – he heard the soft murmurs of their voices when he was making his usual rounds through the Division; he wanted to ask about Aizen… but he discarded both notions immediately. Asking about those immediately would just shatter whatever trust that had built up between them.

At least, Shunsui hoped that there was some trust built up from Starrk's side.

He finally decided on something entirely neutral.

"No matter how long I have lived here, no matter how many times I have looked at the skies… the sight of the clouds have never bored me," he said. "They are always different."

Starrk's gaze turned towards him for a moment before focusing once more at the skies. "Mm," he said.

"Are there clouds in Hueco Mundo?"

"Sometimes," the other man said, shrugging. "Not very often, and they were always thin."

Silence fell over them again. Shunsui didn't fidget; didn't try to break it. He had plenty of patience after a thousand years.

"There would be time after the war. After the war, when I rule over the Heavens, I will teach you how to read." Starrk said finally. His eyes fluttered shut, and his shoulders sagged. "But for now, you are my soldier, and soldiers have little need for books in time of war."

Shunsui didn't need to ask to know whose words those belonged to. He bit his lip lightly, watching Starrk out of the corner of his eyes.

"Now the war is done," Starrk continued in the same dull, empty voice. "And he is still alive. But I don't think he'll keep that promise. He hasn't kept any of the others."

Making a soft, thoughtful noise under his voice, Shunsui nodded. He watched Starrk for another moment before he nudged his shoulders.

"Look over that," he said, pointing in the far-off distance. "Do you see those big white gates?"

"Yeah."

"Outside those gates are the Rukongai districts," Shunsui told him. "That is where most of the plus souls end up after they were given konso by the Shinigami."

He paused for a moment, watching Starrk's reaction. The other man was looking at the white gates, a faraway look in his gaze. Shunsui wondered what he was thinking about; the man was so difficult to read.

"Most of the Shinigami here are from Rukongai," he continued. "There are some of us who were born in Seireitei itself, of course, but most come from outside the gates. And when they enrol in the Academy… almost none of them knew how to read."

Pulling his hat down to shadow his eyes, he continued, "The Gotei 13 is a military organisation. All of us here are soldiers, and yet every single person within these gates knows how to read and write. No matter their future rank, no matter if they knew the name of their zanpaktou… they all could read and write."

"What is it that you're trying to say, taichou-san?" Starrk asked, sounding tired.

"Aizen lied to you about many things," Shunsui said bluntly, lifting his head to meet grey-blue eyes. "It might be wiser for you to assume that every word he said was a lie."

Starrk raised an eyebrow. "And who should I trust instead?" he asked dryly. "You?"

"Goodness no," Shunsui said, grinning helplessly at the very idea. "I'm very untrustworthy, Starrk-san." Not as much as Aizen, but that wasn't saying much.

He ignored the look of surprise on Starrk's face, shelving it to be thought about later on.

"You should trust what's here," he brushed one hand over Starrk's temple, "and what's here." His other hand hovered over the centre of Starrk's chest.

"Taichou-san," Starrk cocked his head to the side. He wasn't leaning away from the almost-touch. "I'm a Hollow. There is emptiness where my heart should be."

Shunsui shook his head, still smiling. "I don't believe that," he denied, leaning forward. "I can't believe that after these past few days.

"You have as many emotions as any Shinigami, as any living, human soul. And what is a heart except a place to store your emotions?"

Waving a hand extravagantly, he took a gamble. "Perhaps having a hole here doesn't mean that you have no emotions, but instead that your emotions are freer and fiercer than ours."

Starrk blinked slowly. Surprise practically screamed out from his body language, even though he was obviously trying to control himself. "That's…" he started. He shook his head. "That's quite something to say, taichou-san."

Shunsui leaned forward, knowing that he was grinning like a fool. "Did I manage to surprise you?"

Slowly, he watched as a small smile tugged at the corners of Starrk's mouth. He found himself breathless as the sides of those grey-blue eyes crinkled. This was the first time he had ever seen him smile: the previous times when he had suspected Starrk to be smiling, the other man's face was always hidden somehow.

And what a sight it was. If Starrk was handsome when he was solemn, he was beautiful when he smiled. His eyes turned as blue as the skies above them.

He was so engrossed in his staring that he almost missed Starrk's next words.

"Taichou-san," Starrk said, sounding amused. "You have been surprising me ever since we first met."

Shunsui really shouldn't be thinking about kissing the man whom he had nearly killed; shouldn't be thinking about kissing a man whose trust he was trying to earn, and who clearly was scarred all that Aizen had done to him; shouldn't be thinking about making an overture at a man who would mostly likely have an incredibly skewed understanding of what the gesture meant.

He swallowed. Patience, he told himself. His hand twitched by his side, but he clenched it so he didn't reach out.

Focus.

"Is that a good thing?" he asked, congratulating himself for being able to sound casual.

Starrk shrugged, turning away and lying on his back, turning his face up to stare at the clouds.

"It is right now."

The smile was still on his face. Shunsui lay down next to him, tipping his hat backwards to look up at the skies.

"I'm glad to hear that."

He resolved to talk to Ukitake about this immediately. If there was anyone who could help Shunsui rein in his self-control, it was his best friend.

But for now, he would stay here watching the clouds with his charge until the man dozed off. He would just stay here and enjoy his silent company.

… Dammit. How long had it been since he found himself perfectly willing to just be beside someone, without the need for words, and not be bored within the first five seconds?

He really was in far deeper trouble than he first thought.

"Help."

Jyuushirou looked up from the pile of paperwork in front of him. He blinked: Kyouraku was leaning against the doorframe, half-boneless, eyes peeking out at him through the shadows of his hat. He blinked again, and Kyouraku made a long, pitiable whine.

"Help me, Ukitake…" he flopped over on the floor, pink kimono fluttering. Then he rolled over and pouted.

The Captain of the Thirteenth Division put down his brush. When he stood from the table, he was just Ukitake, the man who knew best how to handle Kyouraku Shunsui in one of his moods.

"Take a seat," he told his best friend, shaking his head. "I'll make tea."

He knew Kyouraku very well: when the man was looking for a distraction or running away from work (most often the two coincided), he was always deadly serious when he came to Jyuushirou's office. When he was overly dramatic, however, he had a problem that he needed his old friend to help solve.

Kyouraku Shunsui was a man of immense and complex contradictions, and Jyuushirou knew for a fact that he created new ones on a whim. There had been no one who could figure him out entirely except for Jyuushirou himself.

Well, there was one. And Jyuushirou had an idea that this was exactly who Kyouraku had come to talk to him about.

He carried a small tray to the sitting room that was adjacent to his office. The entire place was made up in a traditional Japanese style – traditional by Jyuushirou's standards, which meant that the furnishings and designs were at least eight hundred years old. He sat the tray down on a table that someone long dead had given him from the Living World during the era of the Tale of Heike some eight to nine hundred years ago.

Kyouraku was sprawled on his stomach beside the table, face buried in his arms and hat by his side. Jyuushirou looked at him, amused.

"I've lost a bet with myself, you know," he told the other man as he poured the tea. "I thought it would take you another month before you came to me about Starrk-san."

His best friend's entire body jerked. Kyouraku lifted his head, staring at him for a moment before he laughed, flopping over to his back.

"Ah, Ukitake, you should know me better than that," he said, resting one arm over his eyes. "Am I not a man of extreme excesses and no self-control?"

Jyuushirou snorted under his breath. He pushed one cup over to the other end of the table. "You must've mistaken me for someone who hadn't known you for a thousand years," he said pointedly.

Kyouraku gave a deep, exaggerated sigh. "It's no fun when you know me so well," he groused.

Lifting his cup to take a sip, Jyuushirou refused to deign that comment with a reply.

His head falling back to his arms, Kyouraku didn't speak for a whole ten minutes. Jyuushirou waited him out; in moments like this, his own well of patience was bottomless. Eventually, the other Captain sat up, rubbing a hand through his hair. He picked up his cup of tea and made a face at it.

"It's cold now, Ukitake," he whined, holding it out.

"Drink some of it and I'll give you hot tea," Jyuushirou replied.

Kyouraku considered the cup for a moment before he downed the whole of it like it was alcohol. Jyuushirou's lips twitched as he watched; so the whole situation with Starrk was bothering him a great deal, then.

"You should have seen him, Ukitake. The way he smiled…" Kyouraku shook his head. "I wanted to kiss him."

He sounded so distraught with that confession that Jyuushirou wanted to laugh.

"Why didn't you?"

Kyouraku gave him a flat stare. "Well, for one thing, he is an Arrancar," he said. "Sponsoring him is socially permissible, but taking him as my lover? The whole of Seireitei will go into an uproar."

Jyuushirou didn't even bother to stifle his laugh. Kyouraku gave him an annoyed look, but he only waved it away.

"I never thought that I would see the day when Kyouraku Shunsui allowed the opinions of the majority to get in his way," he said, lips still twitching. "We both have lived far too long to not realise that the only constant thing about the world is its inconstancy. And it's long past time that our opinions about Hollows are revolutionised, isn't it?"

Kyouraku raised an eyebrow. "And what makes you think that I want to be a catalyst for a revolution?"

Taking a sip of his tea, Jyuushirou shrugged. "To become an exception that slowly changes the minds of those you meet, then."

"That's just a prettier rephrasing of a revolution," his friend snorted, shaking his head.

"Kyouraku," Jyuushirou said, cocking his head to the side. "What is it that you are really worried about?"

There was a long moment of silence as Kyouraku stared deep into his teacup as if it could give him all the answers that he sought.

"I'm not very good at letting go, Ukitake," he sighed eventually.

So it was just as Jyuushirou had expected. It was the same problem over and over throughout Kyouraku's life, and he honestly wondered if his friend would ever get over it.

"You are always so much better at doing that than I am," his friend continued. "I still don't understand how you managed to let go of Kaien. And even allowed him to get married!"

"He no longer needed me," Jyuushirou murmured behind his teacup.

"Whoever I have by my side, I will always want to keep them by my side," Kyouraku confessed mournfully to the tea leaves. "I know that I'm overprotective of Nanao-chan. And I nearly stifled Lisa-chan's growth, you know. I even sabotaged her bankai training just a little bit, because I didn't want her to leave me. She had the potential to become a Captain, but if she was a Captain, then she wouldn't be with me anymore…"

"Besides, Kaien and Miyako make for a lovely couple," Jyuushirou continued as if he hadn't heard a word.

"Ah, Lisa-chan probably realised. It has been so long… She must be so angry at me!" Kyouraku flopped onto the floor, two seconds from curling up into a fetal position. Jyuushirou's eyebrow twitched. "She would be even crueller than me than she usually is! We were supposed to have a lovely reunion, but she only stepped on my head! Ah, she really must be—"

Under the table, Jyuushirou slammed his foot against Kyouraku's shin.

"Shunsui."

His friend sat up immediately, eyes widening as he gaped.

They were contradictory creatures, the two of them: they never used each other's given names unless they were angry, or approaching near enough to it.

"I'm not letting you distract me from the main topic here," Jyuushirou smiled beatifically.

"We had a topic?" Kyouraku asked. He looked almost entirely innocent.

"Starrk-san," Jyuushirou said, batting away the pitiful attempt at a distraction. "You were telling me that you thought him beautiful. So why haven't you taken him, if only to slate your lusts just once?"

Kyouraku gave him a wry look. "Haven't I already told you?"

"You were distracting me in hopes that you didn't have to tell me," Jyuushirou corrected.

The other man fell silent for a long moment before he sighed. "We were on the rooftop," he said softly, tipping his head up to stare at the ceiling. "We were there for almost an hour, just looking at the clouds, without saying a word."

Jyuushirou raised an eyebrow.

"He dozed off eventually, and I…" Kyouraku rubbed a hand over his face. "I just sat there, watching as he slept, forcing myself to not kiss him."

Jyuushirou's other eyebrow shot up. That was unexpected.

"Don't give me that look," Kyouraku eyeballed him. "I'm not going to kiss him."

"That is…" Jyuushirou put down his cup. "That is precisely my worry, Shunsui. You are being uncommonly free with your affections."

One of the biggest differences between Kyouraku and himself was this: the long years and the many losses resulted in heavy calluses over Kyouraku's heart. Though his friend still cared, he always kept himself apart, constructing a million different ways to distance himself from others. Kyouraku hoarded the surprise in people's eyes like a child with a safety blanket, using it to reassure himself that they didn't know him well enough; that there were parts of him that was still secret and hadn't been given away.

Jyuushirou couldn't understand why he did so. Then again, he supposed that he was far too different to ever grasp that concept: he willingly gave over all of himself over and over, taking others into his heart, and accepting losses with a grace that was anathema to the other man. He was a master of moving on from grief.

Kyouraku was barely an apprentice at the skill; he held onto every single person he had ever loved with deep claws usually ended up scarring him deeply. Even now, after a hundred years, the loss of Yadomaru-kun still haunted him.

"I'm not even sure about that anymore," Kyouraku sighed heavily. "Did you know that I thought he was beautiful even during our very first meeting? In the middle of a really important battle?"

Ah, another distraction. This time, Jyuushirou allowed it, leaning forward. "You don't have to tell me," Jyuushirou's mouth twitched upwards into a smile. "I saw the way you were looking at him."

Kyouraku's head went thunk on the ancient table. "Ukitake, I…" he muttered at the wood. "I don't think I'm what he needs."

Sweeping his tea cup off the table, Jyuushirou drained it. Now he was the one wishing it was alcohol, because he needed the fortitude to be able to pry his friend out from the very, very deep hole he had clearly dug himself into. When had Kyouraku cared about the needs of others above his own selfish wants?

It had been a very long time.

Slowly, Kyouraku lifted his eyes. "He carries wounds up here," he said, tapping the side of his head. "Aizen did something to him. I don't know what, and I have been forbidden by Lilynette-chan to pry, but the wounds are still festering. I still want to storm into Aizen's cell and to strangle him with my bare hands whenever I think about that."

Jyuushirou forced himself to not interrupt.

"And," Kyouraku took a breath. "Even if I approach him with this, I don't think he trusts me enough for friendship, much less…" he shook his head. "And he would be right not to trust me."

He groaned. "I'm too old for this."

Standing up, Jyuushirou walked over to the other side of the table. He rubbed soothingly at Kyouraku's shoulders. "In the words of our current youths," he said, "you are so screwed."

Kyouraku barked a sudden laugh, leaning towards his touch. "You don't say," he drawled.

Jyuushirou chuckled, taking up the teacup to refill their cups. "Honestly, you have surprised me," he said. "I thought you are here to help solve a problem with lust, not with… well, to put it bluntly. Not with love."

His friend blinked at him. Then he sighed. "Is it that obvious?"

"Only to me," Jyuushirou comforted, flicking the straw hat away to pat his hair. "You're quite safe with everyone else."

Kyouraku dropped his face into his hand. "Why couldn't I have fallen for you, Ukitake?" he whined.

"Well," Jyuushirou said, pretending to take the question seriously. "We did try once, and it ended up in disaster." A very humorous disaster, even during the moment itself, but one nonetheless. "And there is the fact that we don't bore each other as friends, but we would bore each other to tears if we are lovers."

They simply knew each other far too well. Their friendship stretched back for literally a millenia, and Jyuushirou knew that it was the distance and time spent apart that kept their bond so strong. Every time he met Kyouraku again, the man would show him something new – whether about himself, the world around him, or even someone by his side. Meeting with Kyouraku again was never boring.

This time was no different.

He leaned in and kissed Kyouraku on the cheek. "Just don't forget about me when you are caught up in the throes of your new love," he teased.

Kyouraku snorted. He turned around, grabbing Jyuushirou's hand with his own and pressing a gallant kiss at the back of it. "No one can ever take your place in my heart, Ukitake," he declared, grinning widely. "Don't worry about that."

Jyuushirou laughed. He sat back before picking up his cup of tea again. "Are you calmer now?"

"Ah," his friend nodded.

"If that's the case, I think I have a solution for your problem," he said.

Kyouraku cocked his head to the side, curious and perfectly willing to listen.

"Most of the tangles you're now caught in are self-made," Jyuushirou told him. "You've always had that bad habit."

He shook his head. "You're panicking," he said. A bald statement, perhaps, but delivered with gentleness. "Whenever you're confronted with a completely new element, you start thinking too many steps ahead. You start strategizing, Kyouraku, and every strategy you make falls into pieces at their very conception because you have no idea of how Starrk-san will react"

Putting a hand on Kyouraku's shoulder, he smiled. "Take one step at a time."

"Easy for you to say," Kyouraku grumbled. "How am I supposed to do that?"

Jyuushirou laughed. "You already know the answer, but if you insist…" He leaned in, catching the other man's gaze with his own. "Trust him," he said. "Trust him, and trust Lilynette-chan. You must believe that the two of them are not a threat. Stop thinking of possible contingency plans to take them both down if there is a need to – don't deny it, I know you – and you have to stop. Because Starrk-san is far too observant to not notice, and he will always keep his distance from you if you don't trust him."

Sometimes Jyuushirou looked at those two and was reminded of the young recruits in the Academy, the ones who recently arrived at the outer reaches of Rukongai. The look in their eyes were exactly the same as those who could not find themselves to trust because their trust had been betrayed before, and those treacheries had left heavy scars in their hearts.

He put his cup down, sighing under his breath. "I admit that part of their distrust is my own fault as well. The power Lilynette-chan wields in her release was a surprise. But I'm working on it, and so should you."

Kyouraku sighed deeply. "Ask me to move a mountain with a spoon, why don't you," he muttered.

Shrugging, Jyuushirou thrust the second cup of tea into his fellow Captain's hands. He knew that he was asking a lot of Kyouraku for a first step; Starrk and Lilynette weren't the only ones with trust issues. Aizen had left far deeper wounds than those that could be healed with kido. Still…

"You won't get anywhere if you don't," he pointed out.

And Kyouraku knew it too, because he sighed again. "I suppose so," he said, hands clenched tight around his teacup. "What's step two, Ukitake? Should I bring the skies down with a fork?"

"Something like it," Jyuushirou admitted easily. "You'll have to get him to trust you. I'll leave it up to you how to do that. Your methods have always been vastly different from mine."

He sipped at his own tea, waiting. There was nothing he hadn't said that Kyouraku hadn't thought of himself, but the other man needed someone who was there to vocalise those thoughts, to not let them be drowned underneath everything else. That was what they had always done for each other.

Jyuushirou remembered the days after Kaien's death, when Kyouraku had given him a harsh lecture that he was sure no one else knew the man was capable of. But it was what he had needed; Jyuushirou had allowed that particular wound to fester for far too long before going to his friend, and Kyouraku had laced it open to drain the infection before helping him heal.

That wasn't much different from what he was doing now. Though, he had to say that his bedside manner was far better than Kyouraku's.

His friend had been completely silent through his musings, and he was very curious about what was going through that brilliant mind.

Slowly, Kyouraku started to chuckle. "What would I do without you, Jyuu-chan?"

Jyuuhirou snorted at the literally thousand-year-old nickname from their Academy days. He punched Kyouraku lightly on the shoulder.

"You would likely fail miserably at everything you try your hand at," he said dryly. "And I might just leave you to do that if you call me by that nickname again."

It was an empty threat, and both of them knew it.

"So what will you do now?"

Kyouraku stretched his hands upwards before he leapt to his feet. "Spring cleaning, I think," he said.

It might seem a non-sequitor to anyone else, but Jyuushirou only laughed. "Your head is long due for one."

His friend only flapped a hand at him as he headed towards the door. Jyuushirou watched him, hiding a smile behind his teacup. The tension that was in Kyouraku's body when he first walked in was gone; he was far calmer now.

"Hey, Ukitake?"

He blinked. "What is it?"

Kyouraku turned around, and gave him a soft smile, slightly wistful at the edges. "Thanks."

One day, Jyuushirou mused, he would tell Kyouraku that he was much more charming when he wasn't trying. Then again, he was sure that the other man already knew, so he would probably keep that revelation for when Kyouraku was depressed and needed a pick-me-up. Or when Jyuushirou realised that Starrk was in the right set of mind to be charmed.

"We're long past the need for thanks," he said, leaning on the table. "Now leave. You're cluttering up my division."

Kyouraku feigned a swoon. "Such undeserved cruelty. You wound me."

"Perfectly deserved," Jyuushirou retorted.

The other man laughed again before he left. Jyuushirou looked around the room before he began to clear up the cups and teapot.

As he did so, he stretched his senses out, feeling for Kyouraku's reiatsu. The man was in his favourite spot for thinking – in the woods near some of the lower districts of Rukongai. So he was planning then; Jyuushirou wasn't surprised.

Honestly, he was still worried. Not about Starrk, but about Kyouraku – though he had some form of affection towards the former, the thousand-year loyalty he had for his friend would win over it at any time. It had been a truly long time since Kyouraku had truly fallen in love, and he hoped that his friend wouldn't be hurt by it.

No point in fretting over it now. He would just have to wait and see, and perhaps offer advice if there was a need.

The sheets are cool beneath his body, and there is a sound… a constant scrape, scrape, scrape. It is somewhat annoying, so he opens his eyes a fraction.

An expanse of black silk is spread beneath him, and white beyond that. Starrk spreads his hand over the cloth, his mind still muddled from sleep, trying to figure out where it has come from. There isn't a futon in his rooms, only cushions… The only futon he has ever seen is in…

He sits up immediately, blinking and rubbing his eyes. His body protests his movement at the very moment, a sharp ache shooting up his spine, jolting his memory.

The sight of Aizen-sama's smilingly serene face above his own, his heated hands pressing Starrk down onto the futon, his cock driving into him with a single-minded intensity, the wrenching mix of pain and pleasure that burns every thought out of his mind…

.. Ah, right. That's how he has fallen asleep here.

Aizen-sama's eyes are on him. Starrk looks up, seeing his Lord – the man who has saved him from the hopeless emptiness of the desert – sitting in seiza before his desk. Aizen-sama's fingers were curled around a black stick, and he is rubbing it in circles over the surface a polished black stone. A pool of black spread wider with every movement. Starrk blinks at the sight, curiosity tugging at him, before he remembers the manners he has been taught.

"I'm sorry for sleeping so long, Aizen-sama," he murmurs softly, bowing his head.

"It's alright," Aizen-sama says easily. "I only wish that my sleeves are long enough for you to sleep on."

Starrk blinks, confused. Sometimes Aizen-sama speaks in riddles he doesn't know how to unravel.

"Come here, Starrk."

He nods, crawling over on his hands and knees. Every movement makes the pain shoots up his spine again, and he winces a little when he feels blood start to trail down his thighs. Aizen-sama notices immediately – of course he does – and he gives Starrk a gentle smile.

"Does it hurt?"

"Yes," he says, because Aizen-sama has taught him not to lie about such things. "But I like that it hurts."

Aizen-sama reaches out. His hand cups Starrk's cheek, and the skin is almost hot enough to burn. "Why is that so, Starrk?"

"It means that I have given you pleasure," Starrk says. This is one of his first lessons: pleasure does not come easily, for it has to be bought with pain, and he is perfectly willing to buy Aizen-sama's pleasure with his pain.

"You learn quickly," Aizen-sama says. The heat of his hand dims a little, and Starrk sighs in pleasure, turning his head to nuzzle against the silk-smooth skin. He hears Aizen-sama's soft chuckle in his ear.

"I think I'll reward you for good behaviour, Starrk," Aizen-sama's hand toys with the ends of his hair, tugging lightly on the strands. "I'll tell you what I mean by my regret over my sleeve."

Starrk knows his cue: he shifts immediately, pulling back to sit in seiza. The pain worsens, but he ignores it – he will heal once he's out of this room, and the pleasure in Aizen-sama's eyes at his obedience is worth it.

"Once, long ago, there was an Emperor. His name was Ai, for sorrow; he named himself thus for the sorrows he felt whenever his realm was beset with disasters, and there were many disasters during his rule.

"However, there was one salve for the Emperor's heart, and that was his concubine, Tou-Ken. Tou-Ken was a beautiful young man, and the most famous story between the Emperor and his lover is that of the cut sleeve."

Aizen-sama's voice is low and soothing, washing over Starrk with every word. Gradually, his eyes half-lids.

"Am I boring you, Starrk?"

He cracks open one eye lazily before he shakes his head. "I'm listening, Aizen-sama."

A hand slides over his hair. The grip is a little too tight on the strands, and Starrk forces his eyes wide open, and to stay open. Aizen-sama looks at him before a long moment before he smiles.

He continues the story with his hand still there, nearly ripping out the strands.

"One day, the Emperor and Tou-Ken fell asleep on their bed together. When the Emperor awoke, he realised that he could not move from the bed, for Tou-Ken was sleeping on his sleeve. The sight of Tou-Ken's face in repose was so beautiful that the Emperor could not find it within himself to wake the young man. Instead, he took the knife he kept beside his bed, and cut off his sleeve to let the young man sleep while he attended to court."

The grip has loosened by now. Starrk breathes a little easier, swallowing as Aizen-sama strokes his hand through his hair.

"Isn't it a beautiful story, Starrk?"

Lowering his gaze, Starrk nods. "It is, Aizen-sama."

Aizen-sama leans in, and he presses a kiss on Starrk's temple. His lips feel like raw fire itself, scorching skin, but Starrk forces himself to stay perfectly still and relaxed until Aizen-sama pulls away again. Blood trickled down his face, sliding past the curve of his chin down his neck.

"You're dismissed."

Starrk nods. He stands up on shaky legs, steadying himself as he bows at his Lord. His eyes linger on the black stick on Aizen-sama's hand for a moment before he starts to turn away.

"Starrk?"

He stops instantly.

"I'm making ink," Aizen-sama says. "I'll show you next time."

"Yes, Aizen-sama," Starrk says, the words coming on automatic. "I look forward to it."

Starrk opened his eyes. Blue skies instead of white ceiling greeted him; so he had fallen asleep on the roof. He didn't want to sit up.

The dream – memory – lingered like a bad taste at the back of his throat. Starrk dragged a hand through his hair, staring blankly upwards.

He really was looking forward to learning how ink was made. Even now, even when he didn't even know if any of Aizen's stories were true or if anything he had shown him was more than just an illusion, Starrk hungered for more. He was too curious by nature, longing for more and more knowledge and memories to fill the empty spaces within his mind.

Except that now he wasn't sure if any of the memories he had or anything he knew could be trusted.

Except that now his mind liked to go round in futile circles, struggling against the trap made half by Aizen and half by himself, and he really didn't know if anything he knew was true or not anymore.

The only things he had left were his likes and dislikes; things he preferred or abhorred without any kind of reasons to support them. A manner of instinct, or… his hand brushed over the edge of the Hollow hole in his chest.

His hand fell back over his eyes. No, he probably couldn't call those emotions. In fact, he had no name for these… things there were more than instinct but less than feelings. Maybe the lack of a name meant that he couldn't really trust them, but…

What else did he have, really? They would be something to hold onto, at least.

If he held on to them, then he at least knew that he didn't like the pain he felt; the fire that licked at his skin with every touch. But if he didn't like it, then… then what did that mean?

Starrk had no idea. None of the stories that Aizen had told him, nothing that the man taught him, could explain, and Starrk knew nothing else.

He rolled over to his side, staring blankly at one roof tile. He wanted to go back to sleep, but he didn't want to be revisited by memories either.

Sighing, he sat up, looking around. He supposed that he should try to find Lilynette now; she had been missing for too long. Somehow, he hoped that she was up to some mischief – at the very least, stopping her would be a good distraction.

Notes: The story about Emperor Ai and Tou-Ken is real, and that story is the reason why homosexual relationships between men are nicknamed 'the passion of the cut sleeve' in China pre-Republic. The romanisation of Emperor Ai's name (哀) is the same for both Chinese and Japanese, but Tou-Ken's name is pronounced 'Dong Xian' (董賢) in Chinese.

Also, the whole thing about Aizen's skin temperature is part of Kyouka Suigetsu's illusions. Why? Because it's Aizen and he totally would use his own skin temperature as a manipulative tool/torture instrument. Plus, for an ability that fools all five senses, Aizen never seems to use it for more than just sight and sound. I'm expanding on it.

… I'm really not sorry for how much of an obsessive, detail-oriented nerd I am.

And I hope that I did Shunsui and Ukitake's relationship justice. Theirs is one of my favourite relationships in canon, and this is my attempt to explain why I just can't see them as lovers. I really tried, I swear, but I just can't.

Regarding the frequency of updates, let's just say that I update whenever I have time. What is a regular schedule, I have absolutely no idea.