One Moment
Chapter 17: In Our (Bed)room After the War
Characters/Pairings: Shunsui, Starrk, Lilynette, Rukia, Grimmjow, Neliel, and Zaraki. Shunsui/Starrk, Lilynette/Rukia, and Grimmjow/Neliel/Zaraki.
Rating: R
Words: ~10,000
Chapter Summary: People deal with the aftermath of a days-long battle in very different ways.
Notes: Title stolen from the song/album by Stars.
After Starrk had woken up for the first time, he asked for Lilynette. Shunsui had moved to the side to show him the girl sleeping peacefully, swallowing back all the frantic questions bubbling up in his throat. But Starrk had only glanced at his other half, ensuring that she still existed and was safe, before he fell back asleep.
The second time, Starrk had asked for water. Shunsui had pushed aside the reports of the aftermath of the newly-christened 'Zanpaktou Rebellion' and gave him some, his fingers trailing over Starrk's chest lightly. The scabs over his Hollow hole had flaked off, leaving behind raw, red skin like the aftermath of a burn.
He had gotten used to the taste of worry on his tongue by then, so it was easier this time to simply help Starrk sit up to drink his water, and lay him back on the bed when he fell back asleep. His throat didn't even hurt from his silence.
Four days had passed since Shunsui's failure, and this was Starrk's third time awake. Shunsui had finished all of his paperwork – Nanao-chan had been shocked but pleased, and he knew that she would be holding this incident over his head for a long time – and Starrk was now leaning against his shoulders, eyes half-closed. Shunsui tried to not touch his hair.
"Where would you like me to start?" Starrk murmured, sounding adorably sleepy.
"Mm?"
"You've been waiting to ask me about what happened. So where would you like me to start?"
There it was again, Starrk's uncanny ability to practically read his mind.
"I can feel the tension in your shoulders," Starrk answered his question before he could even begin to formulate it. "And I know that you were worried. So it's really not difficult to figure out what you're thinking."
Shunsui chuckled, resisting the urge to turn his head and nuzzle Starrk's hair, to inhale the scent of hot sands buried underneath the antiseptic of the hospital.
"It's unfair that you can tell what I'm thinking when I can't do the same, Starrk-san," he teased.
"Isn't that a good thing?" Starrk asked, his eyes opening fully. "This way, you will never be bored of me."
Stilling completely, Shunsui let out a long, heavy breath. "You were listening," he said, carefully keeping his voice amused. "That's rather rude of you, Starrk-san."
"Maybe," Starrk said, and Shunsui felt more than saw his shrug. "I was surprised that you didn't realise that I was awake, but I guess it's because my reiatsu level was too low at the time."
"Are you upset?" Shunsui asked, for he couldn't help himself.
"Is that the first question you'd like me to answer?"
"Do I have a limited number?"
"Would it make it more exciting for you if you do?"
"Starting up a game like that shouldn't be my choice, Starrk-san."
"When have I ever followed 'should'?"
"Answering me with only questions isn't making me confident that you'll give me proper answers, then."
"If you keep going on like that, I might just fall asleep again."
"I don't mind. I've waited for four days for answers, so I believe I can wait another one if I had to."
Starrk opened his mouth, his eyes bright as they met Shunsui's gaze. After a moment, both of them ducked their heads, and Shunsui had to stifle the urge to muffle chis huckles against the other man's neck.
"This is why you would never bore me, Starrk-san," he said instead, keeping his voice low and soft. "It is rare that I find someone to match wits with like this." His hand slid down to wrap around Starrk's shoulder, instinctively pulling him even closer. "To match wits with me, to know me, and yet is different enough that every event we go through, your eyes will see it differently from mine… how will I ever be bored of you?"
"I cannot speak as beautifully as your sword does, as you do," Starrk replied quietly.
Shifting, Shunsui put enough space between them to be able to curve his fingers beneath Starrk's chin, lifting that beloved face upwards to meet grey-blue eyes. "That is a mere matter of learning," he said, in the same quiet tone. "Besides, have you not realised? One who speaks beautifully does not have a beautiful soul, but if the soul is beautiful, then the speech will shape itself in its like soon enough."
Starrk turned his head, practically nuzzling Shunsui's hand. The sound of his little beard scraping over the calluses of Shunsui's hand echoed around them.
"You call my soul beautiful," he said, soft irony winding around his voice. "But I have no name to call what I am now."
His hand pulled down the collar of his white, hospital-issued yukata further, exposing the scar on the chest where the Hollow hole had been. "Once you said that I have no heart to contain my emotions, and that is why I still feel. But now the space where my heart should be is filled, but nothing has changed, and I don't know if I have a heart left."
Flattening his hand, Shunsui placed it on Starrk's chest, gently unfolding the other man's fingers and soothing the paling knuckles.
"This is an old adage, frequently forgotten: What you are matters less than who you are."
"Is that something you believe in?" Starrk cocked his head to the side.
Shunsui hummed under his breath. "Ukitake is from a minor clan, far beneath mine in standing, and he is my best friend," he said, lips quirking up at the side. "Nanao-chan is the same. My previous lieutenant is from one of the middle districts in Rukongai. And all of them are precious to me."
He stroked the side of Starrk's face. "Even when I knew you to be an enemy I had to defeat, nothing more than a Hollow, I looked into your eyes and knew your kindness, and I thought you beautiful. I mourned, then, that we had to face each other across a battlefield, for I would love to discover all that laid beneath your quiet eyes."
Starrk let out a soft, shuddering breath. His head dropped onto Shunsui's shoulder, and he leaned against him heavily, arms wrapping around his back.
"Muramasa had given himself wholly to me," he said. His breath ghosted over Shunsui's neck. "He was a Shinigami's sword, but now he is mine, and so his name has changed, and so has his form. I do not know what he has been changed into." He shook a little. "I do not know what I am now that I have two swords to my name."
"You are Starrk," Shunsui said firmly.
"Is that enough?"
"It is for me. It will be enough for anyone else. If they shun you for what you are instead of seeing the soul within the shell, then I will tear the blinds from their eyes."
Shunsui meant those words, and he stared deep into Starrk's eyes, willing him to see what had been there ever since that morning on the rooftop of the Eighth. He was not a man who made promises easily, dependent on vague words and jokes to slip out of commitments. Truly, the road to suffering and death was not paved with merely good intentions, but the chains of honour.
The small, always cold and analytical part of him said that he was being a fool, for he was simply setting himself up for failure; the minds of others could not be easily changed, and not even the respect he commanded and the seniority of his post could make them accept his orders to view Starrk as himself instead of a mere Hollow. He might not even convince Yama-jii to continue viewing him as an asset instead of a threat with this new development.
But this time he would risk it. There was nothing else he could do: his heartstrings had wound themselves too tightly around Starrk, the knots so strong that he could have to shatter himself entirely to break them.
Starrk's eyes were on his, surely watching the shifting light as his thoughts raced through his mind. Shunsui's eyes were never the most transparent, but this time, he pushed away the instincts to hide.
Whatever Starrk saw seemed to have pleased him, for he gave Shunsui a small, crooked smile. He leaned in, and the warmth of his skin made the air thin around them, made it shiver from the heat, and Shunsui tried not to twitch from holding himself back from taking those lips.
"Don't hold back," he said.
"Are you reading my mind again?"
Starrk chuckled, his breath drifting over Shunsui's lips. His eyes shone with a light stronger than that of cold gems, and his hand teased the ends of Shunsui's hair, tugging.
"You said that you are willing to wait," Starrk said. "I don't want you to wait anymore, so… why are you stalling now?"
There was, Shunsui thought, a distinct disadvantage to wish to stand beside someone who could almost literally pluck your thoughts from your head. He suppressed another full-body twitch.
"Don't say things like that, Starrk-san," he chided, shoving humour into his voice by sheer force of will. "You have no idea just what I wish to do to you."
He prepared for Starrk to push him away, but the other man only chuckled.
"I can guess," he drawled. "But I trust you, Shunsui."
And what a sweet, fragile thing it was. Nodding, Shunsui shifted his hand from Starrk's shoulder and drifted to his hair, slowly stroking through the strands. He tilted his head, taking a breath.
"You smell of sunlight itself," he murmured, trailing his lips down from Starrk's hairline to the curve of his ear. "The scent of the morning sunrise as its first brilliant rays hit the clouds, burning through the waters with it first warmth."
"Really?"
"Mm," Shunsui said. "I can describe it as the hot sands of the desert, of the scorching sun, but I find my description to be far prettier."
Starrk's shoulders shook, soft laughter shivering the air between them.
"Is this all that you wish from me?" he asked, the barest hint of nervousness hidden beneath layers of humour. "To smell me?"
"Patience, Starrk-san," Shunsui said, tracing Starrk's skull slowly. He did not ask him to tell him to stop if he was going too far; it was already understood, the words woven in the threads of trust connecting them.
He darted his tongue out underneath the lobe of the ear, tasting a hint of salt. Strands of chestnut hair ran over his fingers, masculine-rough in contrast to the smoothness of the skin. He felt Starrk shiver, and he smiled to himself even as he moved further downwards, licking over the beating pulse on the neck before blowing air over the wet skin.
"You have a pulse," he said. "You have a heart. You always had."
"Shunsui," Starrk said, his voice low and choked.
"One day, my name will be the only word remaining in your knife-sharp mind," Shunsui said, letting his teeth scrape over the sensitive skin of Starrk's neck. "One day, you will look into my eyes and forget that you have seen any other sight."
Slowly, he pulled away. His every exhale drifted over Starrk's jaw, like brief kisses. Finally, he lifted his head enough that he met Starrk's eyes, and he swallowed down greedily the sight of grey-blue hazed over with pleasure.
Their foreheads met. Starrk's hands gripped onto his shoulders, but Shunsui's hand was on his chest, keeping their mouths an inch apart.
"I told you that I wish to make love to you," he whispered. "And I will. I will make love to you over weeks. I will touch you until every curve of your body is engraved on my fingertips. I will kiss you until your taste will linger on my tongue for decade. I will scour the memory of every pain, every tear in your heart, and replace it with pleasure alone."
Starrk's chest shuddered under his hand.
Shunsui leaned in, and captured that hitching exhale with his lips. He kissed Starrk gently, just the briefest brush, and he leaned back once more. But Starrk chased him, his hand pulling Shunsui closer, crushing their mouths together. Shunsui waited until a tongue hesitantly nudged at his bottom lip, and he smiled to himself as he parted them, letting Starrk in and delving into his mouth in return.
Underneath the dryness was a hint of something sweet. Shunsui realised that he made a mistake a few days ago, when he described Starrk's smile to be as sweet as winterberries: no, he tasted of summer, of the first harvest of berries that were sweet and ripe, bursting with sweetness in the mouth.
He could be addicted to this taste. He might already be.
His hand left Starrk's hair, gripping onto the sheets. Gently, he nudged Starrk back to lie on the bed, their mouths never parting. Starrk's tongue glided hesitantly over his teeth, and Shunsui sighed, unfolding himself until he was fully on top of the other man.
They were spiritual creatures, without any real need to breathe. But habits died hard, and after a few moments, Shunsui pulled back. Starrk's pants created mists he could almost see in the air, ghosting over his skin.
"Every inch of me that you touch and kiss will be yours," Starrk said, and emotions overspilled from his smile, turning his lips crooked. "Like a cool spring brook, you soothe my burns unti the pain they caused are nothing but faded memories."
"I will do more than that," Shunsui said, making another reckless promise. "I will cleanse you entirely, and make you anew."
Heavy lids dropped over grey-blue eyes. "You will make me yours, then?" he asked, and his voice was completely blank.
Perhaps they were heading towards dangerous territory – Shunsui could guess that Starrk disliked the thought of being owned. But the answer came to him easily, slipping through his usual shields, bald in the purity of their honesty.
He grinned. "It's fair, isn't it? I have been yours since that autumn day."
There was a long silence. Starrk stared up at him, surprise flashing across his eyes – like lightning across a clear blue sky – before his lips quirked upwards. It wasn't a smile, not really, and, not for the first time, Shunsui wished that he could read the man just as easily as he was read by him.
Calloused fingertips brushed over the sides of his face, dancing lightly over his hairline.
"Kiss me again, Shunsui."
He should refuse, he knew. He should instead let out all the half-formed questions at the back of his throat. But Starrk made him impulsive, the very sight of him cutting through Shunsui's many-layered defences, built up throughout years of dealing with crime and war and the sheer bastardry thinking beings were capable of.
Perhaps it was because he knew, instinctively, that Starrk's evasion and shields would never be used to harm him. Perhaps it was because he knew that to pry further was akin to laying siege upon an ally without having any cause.
So instead of saying another word, he leaned in, pressing his lips to Starrk's again.
And he knew himself well enough to know that this wasn't a compromise: this way, he could bask in Starrk's presence, in his warmth.
His very own personal summer that would never turn cold.
Summer, Rukia decided, as the season with the most beautiful skies. Bright blue and clear, with the barest scatterings of white clouds that dotted over the wide expanse… she could stare up at it for hours without getting bored, simply watching the changes the wind made to the tapestry every time they blew.
She shifted slightly, trying to find a more comfortable spot on the rooftop of the Fourth Division. Her foot poked lightly against Lilynette's calf, and she used that as an excuse to look at the other girl.
It wasn't the first one she had used for the past four days. She had been surrounding herself with distractions and pretexts, and she knew herself well enough to know that even her thoughts about the skies were just another one of them.
But now Lilynette was lying beside her, and her mind shifted immediately to what Renji had said even though she wanted to avoid it a little longer. It was a matter of pride, really – she loathed to even think that the stupid, brawns-without-brains oaf was right. But he might just have a point. There was something odd in the way Lilynette seemed to prioritise her safety beyond everyone else's; something even odder in the way Rukia's own eyes couldn't help but be drawn towards her even though she had never once looked at anyone else like that before.
No, not anyone else; any boy. There had been someone else who drew her eye more often than anybody in vicinity. Rukia stared up at the skies, trying to focus on the blue instead of the elegant and utterly stunning visage of Shiba Miyako hovering at the back of her eyelids. Miyako-dono had been so graceful, her every step a dance, and the way she had wielded her zanpaktou… Rukia had watched her frequently, and tried her best to not be distracted by how Miyako-dono's wrist had flashed with every thrust and parry when she practiced her katas…
She sighed heavily. She knew why she had always saw Renji and Ichigo as her (unwanted, unwished for) little brothers rather than any form of love interest now, even though the former had shown, months ago, that he might just be interested in a completely different type of familial relationship. She even knew the reason why she was so glad when Renji had gotten over that infatuation of his.
"Oy," Lilynette nudged her ankle. "Stop thinking so loudly."
"I'm not being loud," Rukia protested, turning her head. The huffy, questioning look in the younger-looking girl's eyes made her laugh, she quickly thought up of yet another excuse.
"I'm just wondering why we're here instead of staying back in your room."
"Eh, I wanted to give those two a room," she snorted. "But if spring water does anything, I'm going to beat him up."
'Spring water'? Rukia blinked, taking a moment to realise that Lilynette was referring to Kyouraku-taichou. She couldn't help but chuckle under her breath: it was rather cute, actually, that Lilynette seemed to insist on using a different reading or the literal meaning of names instead of the name itself.
Wait.
"Kyouraku-taichou and Starrk?" Rukia asked, sputtering and eyes wide.
Lilynette blinked at her. "… Yeah," she said, cocking her head to the side. "Who else was in that room?"
"That's not what I meant," Rukia protested. "You mean that the two of them…"
"Please don't tell me that you Shinigami have some kind of weird hangups about people of the same sex getting together," Lilynette said, rolling over until she was lying on her stomach. Her body was barely an inch away from Rukia's now, and incredulity was practically blaring from her eyes.
"Should you be lying on your front like that?" Rukia blurted out, her instinctive worry overcoming her surprise at the thought of Kyouraku-taichou and…
The other girl waved a hand. "I'm fine. They're just keeping Starrk and me here because they can't figure out what happened to us." Her eyes narrowed, and she shoved her face closer to Rukia's. "And don't change the subject."
"It's- no! We don't have any problems with relationships like that!" she shook her head hard, trying her best to not sound defensive because it was true. The average Shinigami lived for a hundred years at least, and the powerful ones – the seated officers, Vice-Captains and Captains – lived for much longer. With a lifespan like theirs, it was a ridiculous notion to allow laws to limit the bonds they could make.
To be quite honest, Rukia genuinely did not know just where the discrimination against such relationships in the Living World came from. She had been greatly encouraged (forced, more like) to study the classics when she was first adopted, and didn't Hikaru Genji bed a boy when the sister proved too frigid, all the way back to a thousand years ago? She had no memories of the Living World – she died as a baby – but a hundred and fifty years ago, there had been wakashudo and male kabuki actions who served as prostitutes at night, hadn't there?
Granted, these freedoms were usually granted only to men in the Living World, but things were slightly more egalitarian amongst the dead.
Lilynette didn't seem to believe her, and Rukia dragged a hand through her hair. "I don't have any problems either," she said quietly. "And I'm not even objecting to the idea of an Arrancar and a Shinigami together." She would be a terrible hypocrite if she was. "I was just surprised, that's all."
"Really," Lilynette drawled, and Rukia breathed a sigh of relief when she realised that the suspicion was replaced by humour in that red eye. "I thought spring water was being stupidly obvious."
"I don't pay much attention to either of them," Rukia replied wryly, and that was true too. Whenever the Captain and Starrk were around her, Lilynette was as well, and she was usually far too focused on the other girl to notice anyone else.
"Anyway," Lilynette said, shrugging. "It smells better up here than in the room."
"Smells?"
"Mm," the other girl said, nodding. "I don't know it's because Muramasa is now part of my Pack, or because Starrk and me beat the shit out of the wolves, but I smell better now. And it stinks down there."
Rukia probably wouldn't find a better opening than this to ask the question that had been nagging at the back of her back ever since that first melee on Sokyouku Hill.
"Is that how you can always find me?" she asked, carefully keeping her eyes blank. "You can smell where I am?"
Instead of jerking, or looking surprised, Lilynette only stared at her silently. Rukia met that gaze, and she wondered once again about Lilynette's age, because she seemed to act like she was twelve at one moment and so much older – decades older – the next.
"You've heard about my pesquisa, right?" the girl said finally, propping up her chin with a hand. "That's always how I found you."
"Well, that's the 'how' solved, then," Rukia said, keeping her voice casual. "But… why? Why do you keep looking for me?"
"I wasn't looking for you," Lilynette said, looking away. "It's just that… your reiatsu feel familiar to me, so whenever I'm in the area, my body moves on its own."
It was, Rukia thought, a good answer to her question. But it wasn't the truth.
"But it doesn't explain just why you seem to know so much, Lilynette," she said gently. She didn't want Lilynette to run away before she had all of her answers. "You… you knew that I was hurt by Byakuya-nii-sama's actions, and you argued against him for me. You interfered in his fight even though you really had no reason to."
"I had plenty of reason," Lilynette said sulkily, still looking away. "I don't like traitors."
"I know you don't, and I'm not accusing you of lying," Rukia said hurriedly. She reached out a hand and placed it on Lilynette's arms. "I just… I just wanted to know why you…"
"Why I keep helping you even when you didn't need the help?" Lilynette's voice has gone flat.
"Well," Rukia paused. "It's not that I didn't need the help. I wouldn't be able to fight against the wolves if you weren't there, and if you didn't interfere, I think I would've forgiven Nii-sama without telling him that I was hurt by his actions"
She could have fought off the wolf that came at her at Sokyouku Hill without Lilynette's help, though, and battled Sode no Shirayuki without her as well. But Rukia didn't think it wise to say that out loud.
"I… appreciate your help, but… why me?"
"There aren't a lot of people whose reiatsu I'm familiar with," Lilynette shrugged. "Spring water and floating bamboo definitely don't need my help no matter what they're up against, Starrk will just fuss over me, Yachiru has her Zaraki, and the other Eleventh Division bastards would just beat me up for interfering in their fights."
All that was true, but Lilynette still wasn't meeting her eyes, and that was strong enough incentive to keep prying.
"You could've done what Starrk had and protected the other unseated Shinigami," she pointed out.
"Who said that I didn't?"
Rukia's fingers twitched at her side. This line of questioning wouldn't get where she wanted, she thought, swallowing back her frustration.
Time to change tact, then.
"You said that Kyouraku-taichou is very obvious about his interest in Starrk," she said, her lips quirking up slightly. "But I couldn't see it. I still can't, really, because… Kyouraku-taichou hadn't rushed to Starrk's defense."
Like you do mine, she left unspoken.
Lilynette dropped her head down onto the ground, bone clicking when her mask met the red clay. She rubbed her face with a hand.
"What do you want me to say, Rukia?" she asked, and it was that old, heavy voice again, that one that spoke of untold ages of experience that belied her childish appearance. "Why don't you just ask it instead of going around in circles like that?"
Rukia rolled onto his stomach as well, bumping her shoulder with Lilynette's. "I don't know if you would tell me if I ask directly."
Finally, finally, that red gaze turned to meet hers. But there was a disturbing blankness there, and Rukia swallowed back a sigh.
"Try me," Lilynette said.
Slowly, gently, Rukia allowed her hand to drop on top of Lilynette's hair. She smoothed her thumb over the strands of dark green, following them from root to the tips, skimming over the warm bone of her mask fragment.
"Okay," she said, taking a deep breath. "How important am I to you, Lilynette?"
The red eye fluttered shut, and Lilynette tipped her head back. Rukia didn't pause, trailing her fingertips over the strands of her hair, simply waiting.
When Lilynette moved, she pushed down her instinctive reaction. The smaller girl rolled on top of her, practically sitting on her stomach as elbows came down to rest on the tiles on either side of her head.
"The first time I met you, you looked at me with suspicion like everyone else," Lilynette started, her lips curving up into a crooked smile more suited to someone at least two decades older than how she looked. "But you… you didn't look away from me like everyone else had. But you showed me how to use a sword anyway."
Smooth hands, now skin rather than fur, cupped her face, and Rukia knew instinctively that Renji was right. (Not that she would ever tell him.)
Perhaps she was being selfish. The answers to her questions were already there, thick in the air between them. But she had lived too long in silence, trying to grasp onto those ghostly voices with her bare hands and always, always failing. Was it too much to ask to have confirmation, to want to see the shapes of Lilynette's lips when they formed the words she wanted to hear?
"You called me a friend even when I looked like a monster," Lilynette continued softly. "You said I was cute. But… I think… it started even before then. I think it started when I realised how strong you are."
"If I'm strong," Rukia said, keeping herself still and trying to not lean towards those fingers on her cheeks, "then you wouldn't have to keep rescuing me."
"That's not the kind of strength I mean," Lilynette shook her head. "Having power – reiatsu – isn't everything. Starrk and me… we had plenty of power, but we were still weak. We were weak enough that we agreed to become tools to the first person who met. We- I was so weak that even though I thought that there was something wrong in what Aizen wanted us to do, I didn't even tell Starrk about it. I didn't try to stop him. I didn't try to protect Starrk. I didn't even say anything."
She took a long breath. She was shaking. Rukia wanted to hold her, to tell her that no one could have expected her to go against Aizen all by herself. But she didn't interrupt.
"But you… you stick with what you believe in, no matter what," Lilynette seemed to be forcing the words through her teeth, leaning in until their foreheads met. "When you were arrested, you stuck with the punishment. And you forgave your brother and stuck with the love you held for him despite all that he did to you. You stuck with your beliefs with your sword, freeing her even when you knew that it meant that you will never be a Shinigami again."
Lilynette laughed a little, the stuttering breaths ghosting over Rukia's mouth. Her eye was bright, vermillion like the setting sun.
"You want to know how important I am to you?"
"Mm," Rukia nodded. She barely breathed.
Slowly, Lilynette closed her eyes. Her forehead felt warm against Rukia's. "You're my inspiration, you know," she whispered.
"I…" Rukia stopped, trying to breathe through a suddenly-closed throat. She had never felt like this, so disorientated and warm. Not even when Renji had declared that he would rescue her, or even when she was watching Miyako-dono practicing her katas.
Her cheeks felt like they were burning. She took a deep breath.
"I don't know if I can feel the same for you."
When the other girl tried to pull away, she grabbed her by the collar of her white, hospital-issued yukata, pulling her back down. "I'm not refusing," she said. "I just… I just need some time to think about it, that's all."
Somehow, that was the right answer. Lilynette smiled at her, bright and child-like, before she tilted her head up and brushed her lips over Rukia's forehead.
"Mm. I can be patient."
Rukia started at the gesture, at those words. She sat up a little, eyes fixed on Lilynette's.
"How old are you?" the words burst out of her, unwilling to be kept within for much longer.
Lilynette laughed, her shoulders shaking a little. "I'm not really sure, actually," she said, shrugging. "It's hard to count years in Hueco Mundo."
Smacking her fist lightly on one thin shoulder, Rukia glared. She was really getting tired of evasive answers. "Tell me the truth," she demanded.
"I'm telling you the truth," Lilynette protested. "I really don't know!"
"Guess, then."
"Uh…" she dragged a hand through her hair. "I died when I was thirteen or so, I think. Then I spent a few decades… maybe more… in Hueco Mundo as an Adjuchas, a few more decades as a Vasto Lorde before I split my mask and pushed Starrk out and became an Arrancar…. Then there was another few decades of that before Aizen found us… I guess I'm over a century old, or maybe even two?"
Rukia blinked. "Oh," she said. "You're around my age, then?"
"Something like that," Lilynette gave her a wry smile. "I'd say I'm older, though, because I remember everything."
Blinking again, Rukia cocked her head. "Everything?"
"Mm," Lilynette nodded. "Not every single detail, but… I remember everything. Both about the Living World before I died, and in Hueco Mundo."
It wasn't what a Kuchiki should do, and it surely wasn't the reaction Lilynette was hoping for, but Rukia couldn't do anything but gape.
"... What?"
Rukia had never, not even once, heard about anyone remembering their life in the Living World once they moved on to Soul Society or become a Hollow. Her textbook had said that receiving konso wipe out the memories of plus souls so they could have a new start in Soul Society, and the process of turning into a Hollow destroyed memories along with emotions.
Lilynette's smile turned wry at the edges. "Looks like that's something else that makes me a freak, huh," she said.
"Interesting," Rukia corrected.
She had been thinking about this for the past few days, recalling everything Lilynette had ever told her, replaying all her memories of the other girl in her mind. And she recognised this now, this thing that was nearly self-deprecation but with a far harsher edge; recognised it as easily as the taste of her own blood on her tongue whenever she bit on her own lip.
"I'm a Kuchiki, but I'm also Rukia from Inuzuri," she said softly, mirroring Lilynette's crooked smile. "I can't go back to Inuzuri anymore, because the people there would shun me for the new way I have learned to walk and talk. But I can't feel at home at Kuchiki Manor either, because they never forget where I come from, even if it's been fifty years. I'm somewhere in between the two, and I can't really fit into either."
Shrugging, she tipped her head up to stare at the sky. "But I think that's okay, because… Rukongai has given me Renji. The Manor has given me Nii-sama. And between the two of them, I've… found my own place. And it's an interesting place, far better than if I try to trap myself into one of them."
There was weight on her shoulder, bone pressing against bone. Rukia's smile widened into a grin, and she poked Lilynette's cheek where it was half-buried into her own neck.
"You're heavy," she said.
Lilynette huffed. Her hand shot out, grabbing hold of Rukia's finger. "Don't poke me," she whined. When she lifted her head, Rukia nearly burst out laughing at her exaggerated pout.
"Say," Lilynette smirked. "Is this your way of telling me that my place is with you?"
Rukia rolled her eyes, smacking the side of the mask fragment lightly. "I said that I'll think about it, won't I?"
"Ow!" the pout returned with a vengeance. "You're mean."
They stared at each other for a moment before Rukia's shoulders started to shake. They clung onto each other, hands gripping onto shikahashou and white yukata as they tried to stifle half-hysterical giggles against cloth.
Somehow, this reminded Rukia of days long past, when she was in Inuzuri and stealing food, and she and Renji and their now-dead friends had pulled off a successful theft and were high on their victory. But it was different: at that time, her nerves didn't buzz at the feel of skin against skin, and she was never this short of breath, no matter how much she had ran.
"You're the first person I've told about this," Lilynette said suddenly. "Not even Starrk knows."
After a few moments of complete silence, Rukia tipped her own jaw close. She swallowed. "What?"
She kept saying that nowadays.
Lilynette sighed, slumping backwards. She shifted, practically wriggling around the rooftop before she finally settled the position she wanted – sprawled over the sloped tiles, staring up to the skies with her head in Rukia's lap.
"Starrk doesn't know that I remember," she said, and underneath the almost-casual tone was the weight of a heavy burden long-carried. "And… I don't want to tell him."
If there was nothing else Rukia knew about Lilynette's relationship with the other Arrancar, she knew that they were two halves of one soul. She had watched the two of them, and they always seemed to be able to read each other's minds.
She didn't doubt that Lilynette was telling the truth. But it just seemed… strange, to keep such a huge thing a secret.
"Why not?" she asked, tugging lightly at the ends of green hair.
"He doesn't remember anything from before we split," Lilynette replied. Her eye seemed to look through Rukia entirely. "I'd rather it be that way because… he's an idiot. If he knows about our past, then… he'll overthink everything and feel sad.
"He protected me so much when we were alive. He protected me during our time in Las Noches. So this time, I want… I want to protect him instead."
Rukia tugged harder, nearly pulling out the strands.
"Ow!"
Good; that gaze was now focused on her, looking at her.
She rolled her eyes.
"You shouldn't be the one to kill Kouga, you idiot," she said dryly. "Because you're now doing exactly what you scolded Nii-sama for, and for even longer than Nii-sama had."
Lilynette stilled completely on her lap. Her eye widened. "What?"
"You're making excuses," she said, flicking her finger at the side of the bone eyepatch. "You're not really protecting him, you know. You're lying to him and lying to yourself that you're protecting him."
She had done the same thing, stifling her own desperate desire to live so as to try to dissuade Renji – and later Ichigo – from risking their lives to rescue her. But they had ignored her entirely, and she had learned throughout the war to be thankful that they were such thick-headed idiots.
"He's going to be sad that you've been keeping this from him," she pointed out, gentling her touch on Lilynette's hair. Her words were harsh enough. "The longer you keep this from him, the more sorrow you'll cause him once he finds out."
"He'll never find out," Lilynette protested immediately, which earned her another flick over the mask fragment.
"You just told me that you're older than I am, so why are you acting like a kid, huh?" Rukia scolded. She folded her hand into a fist, rubbing it hard against the side of Lilynette's head, grabbing onto thin wrists with the other hand when they tried to stop her. "You can't keep something like that a secret forever."
Leaning down, she caught Lilynette's eye, narrowing her own. "And it is better that you tell him rather than wait for him to figure it all out himself."
"He wouldn't figure it out!"
"Really."
"He hasn't figured out all these years!"
"Eventually he'll learn to ask the right questions. He's smart, and you're a bad liar."
"I'm not—" Lilynette started. Rukia squinted her eyes further, turning them into slits. She probably looked ridiculous, and Lilynette's lips were twitching at the corners, but she stayed like that until the other girl stopped fighting.
"I'll think about it," she said finally, sulkily.
Rukia patted her hair, making the gesture as condescending as possible. "Good girl," she said.
"Oy!" Lilynette said, flailing a little. Somehow, she managed to throw herself backwards enough to slam her head into Rukia's stomach, sending the air right out of her lungs.
Punching her instinctively on the shoulder, Rukia tried to catch her breath. She didn't let go of those wrists.
"So violent," she drawled. The effect was slightly ruined by how out of breath she sounded.
"I'm violent?" Lilynette yelped. "What about you- oy! Stop that!" Rukia grinned, continuing to tickle the inside of her wrists even as she flailed.
Rukia threw her head back and laughed. It was a capital mistake, because Lilynette lunged at her, pinning her to the ground, fingers sneaking beneath her uniform to tickle her stomach. She shrieked, attacking back, and their limbs flailed around wildly.
They were probably going to be scolded by Unohana-taichou for making such a racket. Her ribs hurt from laughter and the headbutt, and she was probably making herself filthy by rolling around the dusty rooftop like this. But none of that mattered, because Lilynette's eye was shining with joy, and she was here and safe and…
And Rukia already had her answer ready.
But she would wait. She would wait until Lilynette had found her own place to belong. She would wait until she was strong enough that Lilynette would never have to rush to her defense again.
They would have to stand on equal ground first before she took the hand that Lilynette was holding out to her.
Kenpachi unlocked the door to the bedroom of his living quarters in his Division, stepping inside.
"No one will disturb us here," he said. "Even Yachiru knows better."
Grimmjow leaned against the wall, whistling loud and sharp, even as Neliel locked the door behind her.
"Nice digs," the Arrancar drawled, lifting an eyebrow at Kenpachi. "Do all the Captains get a bed as big as yours?"
"Hell would I know?" he snorted. "It's not like I go 'round visiting people's bedrooms."
Though he had to admit that the bed was indeed fucking huge. It was wide enough to accommodate at least four people, even if he took into consideration the broadness of his own shoulders. And it was long enough that his legs didn't hang over the sides.
The thing was his, but it didn't used to be. He inherited it along with practically all of the other furniture here from the previous Captain, the Kenpachi he killed. There were a few brave souls who tried to convince him to redecorate, saying something about it being inauspicious to sleep in a dead man's bed. He just told those idiotic fuckers that he was using a dead man's name, and nothing could be more inauspicious than that even if he believed in some shitty superstitions.
"I see now why you invited us back here," Neliel mused softly. She crossed the room on silent feet, perching on the side of the bed. "It's big enough for all three of us, and it'll be far more comfortable than Hueco Mundo."
"Eh, I don't really care 'bout the comfort bit," Kenpachi shrugged. "But we might get interrupted in Hueco Mundo, and I'd rather not stop fucking just because we have to get rid of some asshole with no brains."
Grimmjow cackled, and Kenpachi was about to tell him to shut up when the Arrancar was right in front of him, grabbing hold of his Captain's haori and smashing their mouths together.
So this was how they were going to play it, then – straight to business. Kenpachi was fine with that; he had never been a man much for pleasantries anyway. He dug his fingers into Grimmjow's scalp, holding onto him as they devoured each other's mouths.
Neliel's breasts pressed against his back as she wrapped her arms around him. Her hands slid over his haori, slipping through his clothes to find the laces of his uniform. Somehow, they didn't even bump into Grimmjow's hands, and the other man shifted his grip just in time for Neliel to undress Kenpachi entirely.
"You're not the only one we've done this with," Neliel murmured in his ear, somehow reading his mind. "But you're the first Shinigami."
Her fingers sneaked into his hakama, pulling the laces hidden within.
Kenpachi wrenched his mouth away from Grimmjow's, licking his lips at where blood was beading at the corner. "I don't give a fuck," he said, purely honest. "Get your clothes off, both of you."
He'd do it himself, but they were wearing some kind of weird stuff he had never seen before: shirts thin and tight enough to cling to their skins, stiffer blue pants ripped at the knees that were just as tight.
Grimmjow laughed, breaths huffing over his mouth as he cocked an eyebrow. "What, you can't deal with human clothes?"
"We stole them from the Living World," Neliel told him, amusement threaded through his voice. "Because we'd rather not wear the uniforms that Aizen had given us."
"Frankly, I don't give a shit," Kenpachi snorted, reaching out and pulling at Grimmjow's shirt. If the man wasn't going to take it off, then he'd have to take matters into his own hands and tear it off himself. "Just get naked now."
Neliel laughed in his ear again, her breath curling over his neck. Kenpachi turned his head, glaring at her, but she only grinned before pulling away.
He slipped out of their grip, moving to the bed to watch. The clothes didn't leave much to imagination, true, but he was intrigued by the smoothness of their skin. Even Grimmjow's scar didn't feel rough beneath his hand.
And of course, there was… he reached out, large hand splaying over the gaping hole in the middle of Grimmjow's abdomen. It was a huge thing, and his fingers could barely touch the edges. Slowly, keeping his eye on Grimmjow, he skimmed over the outside, letting his chipped nails scrape over the skin.
It was soft and raw to the touch, like a wound with the skin torn off.
The moan that Grimmjow let out was loud enough to bounce against the wall.
"Zaraki," he said, throwing his head back. His fingers fumbled over the bright silver button of his strange pants, and he shuddered. Kenpachi smiled, dipping inwards, letting his callouses stroke over the inside of the hole.
"Fuck!"
"Feels good, huh?"
"What the hell gave you the idea?" Grimmjow said, sounding breathless. Kenpachi didn't look up, instead grabbing the man's hips with both hands, pulling him forward. Grimmjow stumbled, practically falling on top of him, but Kenpachi was focused on that odd darkness, leaning in.
It tasted like nothing else he had ever had before, and Kenpachi had eaten a lot of things. He wasn't a poetic man, but he thought that this was what night itself would taste like. Cold, with a hint of pure water… He gripped Grimmjow's hips even tighter, pulling him close as he chased the taste, trying to figure it out.
Hands dug into his shoulders, trying to shove him backwards. After a while, Kenpachi obliged, tilting his head up. He blinked: Grimmjow's face was flushed, red spreading from his cheeks all the way down to his neck, and his chest was heaving.
"I'm going to come before we do anything if you keep doing that," he warned.
Kenpachi grinned. He leaned in and licked again, just at the edge. This time, he kept his eye on Grimmjow, watching him as he threw his head back and gave the filthiest moan he had ever heard. It was even louder than the last.
"You make noises better than any whore I know," he said.
If it was anyone else, any Shinigami, they would be insulted. But Grimmjow only laughed, loud and raucous, and he bent down, practically doubling over as he slammed his mouth onto Kenpachi's.
"I'm better at a lot of shit than any whore you know," the Arrancar said.
Kenpachi opened his mouth to retort, but there was a hand on his hair, pulling him to the side. He went with it, cracking his eye open wider as he met Neliel's gaze. She was naked, her full breasts on display, and he let his gaze travel down until he saw the Hollow hole – much smaller than Grimmjow's – on the inside of her left thigh, right where the joint met her hip.
"Do you want to see if I taste differently than he does?" she arched a brow. It wasn't a question.
"We aren't going to neglect you," Grimmjow said, cutting through any reply Kenpachi could make. He stepped closer to the other Arrancar, digging his fingers into her hair as he kissed her. Kenpachi watched, slowly bringing his mouth closer to that tempting darkness.
When he let his tongue swirl around the edges of the hole, he heard her moan into Grimmjow's mouth; saw her twist her body as if she was unsure which man she wanted to arch into more.
She was just his type of woman – muscles everywhere, with heavy curves that he could touch, full-bodied and not looking as if she would break if he was just a little rough with her.
He tried not to think about how his type of woman was entirely influenced by the one he met when he was a kid.
They fell onto the bed together, all three of them, limbs tangling everywhere. Kenpachi swept his arm out impatiently, shoving Grimmjow to the side. "Get your pants off," he ordered.
Then he went back to tasting Neliel, feeling the soft-wet-cold of the darkness in on his tongue. It tasted different from Grimmjow's – woodier, waxier, like the underside of a leaf. He spared a moment to wonder how the hell she could taste like that when he saw no trees in Hueco Mundo before he was distracted by Grimmjow's hands pulling off his hakama.
"Now who is the one complaining about being neglected?" Neliel asked, and hell, Kenpachi could smell how aroused she was, how wanting and wanton, but her voice was perfectly steady.
"Don't mind me," Grimmjow said, the grin obvious in his voice. "I'm just speeding it up."
"I want to have him first," Neliel said.
"Oy, do I get a choice with this?"
"No," she smiled, it was exactly the same one she gave him right before she beckoned him into a fight. And fuck was it not the hottest damn thing that Kenpachi had ever seen in his life.
"Good thing that I'm good with that then," he said, leaning in and scraping his teeth over her throat. "Or else I'd drag you both outside for a fight."
"You'll get the fight you want right here," Grimmjow cackled. His weight landed on Kenpachi's back as he leaned over his shoulder to kiss Neliel.
They kissed like they were fighting, all tongue and teeth. Grimmjow's growls rumbled in his chest, shivering over the skin of Kenpachi's back; Neliel's breasts were pressed against him, her laughter making him shudder, and though it was uncomfortable squashed like this, he had the best damned seat in the house.
"I can't fuck her like this," he said eventually, shoving an elbow into Grimmjow's ribs. "Get the hell off of me."
"You always give orders like that during sex?" Grimmjow asked.
"Only when it comes to stupid bastards like you," Kenpachi said, but the other man was already moving, laughing again.
When was the last time anyone had laughed so damned much during sex with him? He tried to find it annoying, but the way Grimmjow's ribs shuddered against his skin with every chuckle and cackle was too arousing for it to be.
He ignored him, turning his full focus on Neliel. She was lying there, taunting anticipation in her bright eyes, and Kenpachi shifted, slamming his hand onto the bed as he loomed over her. This close, he could smell her - wet but dry at the same time, the undercurrent of hot sands nearly buried beneath her arousal.
When he slipped two fingers inside her, she arched her back, eyes widening. He knew he could just fuck her, but this was better – that taunting look was gone, and he knew it was his win, if only for a second before she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him close.
"Is that what you Shinigami call 'fucking', Zaraki-taichou?" she purred into his ear. "I didn't realise that you are so… tame."
"Anyone ever told you that shutting the fuck up might get you what you want faster?" he grinned, slamming his fingers even harder inside her. His thumb stroked around her entrance, finding what he was looking for in seconds. He pressed, and she moaned, hair spilling over the bed, over her face.
Grimmjow leaned in to catch the ends of the sound with his mouth, and Kenpachi saw that his hand was around her Hollow hole, three fingers shoved inside, stroking and fucking it. He rolled his eyes, pulling out of Neliel and thrusting the wet digits into Grimmjow's darkness, sliding the insides of it and making him shudder.
"It's a useful thing, this Hollow hole of yours," he smiled, baring teeth. "I can fuck both of you at once like this."
"Greedy," Neliel said, her eyes catching his over Grimmjow's shoulder. "But not greedy enough."
She rocked her hips upwards, just to emphasise the point.
Kenpachi laughed. He dug one hand on her shoulder, keeping her still on the bed before he slid into her.
Neliel didn't feel any different inside from the any of the women he had. But he couldn't think of those women, because her nails were digging into his shoulders, and her heels pressing into his back, and he was fucking her hard enough to make the bed slam against the wall with each thrust.
Grimmjow pulled him to the side, crashing their mouths together again. And it was different, to hear Neliel's cries echoing in his ears while he swallowed down the growls Grimmjow made as he stroked the inside of his Hollow hole. It took a lot of coordination, but hearing them fall apart, hearing them lose this fight they were having…
Hell, it was worth it.
When he felt Neliel's body shuddering even harder under him, he wrenched himself away from Grimmjow's mouth. He bit down hard on her neck, forcing his reiatsu through her hierro, and she came around him, tight and rippling, and he was close, almost close enough to come. Gritting his teeth, he slammed hard into her. Almost—
Then Grimmjow grabbed him with both hands and pulled him away from her.
"What the fuck," Kenpachi growled, glaring into blue eyes.
Grimmjow's face was red, and he was panting. But he grinned at him, fearless, before he pushed Kenpachi down onto the bed, climbing over him.
"She said she's going to have you first," the Arrancar reminded.
Before Kenpachi could even ask him what the hell he was talking about, Grimmjow was straddling him, grabbing his cock and sinking down on it. The tightness, the suddenness of the entire thing made Kenpachi groan, and his hips thrust upwards.
"Don't you fucking dare come," Grimmjow growled, tugging on his hair, pulling his head back.
Kenpachi forced open his eyes, squinting at him. "Aren't I supposed to stretch you first or some shit like that?"
Grimmjow only smirked at him, and it was Neliel – fuck, how the hell did she recover so fast? – who whispered in his ear: "We have hierro, you know."
"Fucking useful thing, that," he forced out through gritted teeth.
She chuckled at him, and he turned slightly towards her. He grabbed her by the arm, shoving her down on the bed even as he gripped onto Grimmjow's hip by the other hand and did the same to him. He thrust forward, slamming deep inside, and Grimmjow fucking yowled like a cat, and he grinned at the sound.
At the same time – he scraped his nail over the edges of Neliel's Hollow hole.
"If you can be so fucking coordinated when I know how close you are to blowing your damned load…" Grimmjow hissed, eyes narrowing. "We're not trying hard enough."
Kenpachi's eyes widened.
It was embarrassing and he was never going to admit it to anyone, but he honestly didn't know what happened next. There were suddenly teeth on his neck and hands everywhere. Nails scraped over his skin, pain and heat bursting like stars in his eyes, and Grimmjow was tighter than he thought anyone could be. He had some presence of mind to know that it was Neliel's hand on his throat, cutting off his air, and then Grimmjow did something with his hips and Kenpachi was coming harder than he ever had in his fucking life.
He was winded when he finally fell onto the bed, pulling out of Grimmjow rough enough to make him wince. But the Arrancar didn't even seem to feel it, crawling over him, practically shoving his still-hard cock into Kenpachi's face. The message was clear enough, and he let it slip into his mouth, down his throat, even as he shoved his entire hand into his Hollow hole, practically clawing at the insides.
When Grimmjow came into his mouth, he shoved the other man off of him, turning his head and spitting out the come onto the sheets.
"Give a man a warning," he said, glaring.
Grimmjow laughed breathlessly. He reached up and grabbed Kenpachi's hair by the handfuls, pulling him down and staring into his eyes.
"Fuck no," he said, and there was so much smugness in his tone that Kenpachi punched him in the face.
He was still laughing as he rolled on his back.
They were filthy, all three of them, and it was annoying to feel the stickiness, to hear the two of them laughing at him. But he couldn't help but laugh as well, dropping back onto the bed as he stretched.
"It's my loss this time," he admitted, shrugging.
"Two against one, and you didn't do badly at all," Neliel said, leaning over him. Her green hair fell like waves of silk around his face, and he slid his hands through the strands.
"I'll win at round two," he grumbled.
"Give me half an hour and I'll take you up on that," Grimmjow said, and he was grinning with all teeth.
Kenpachi snorted. "You think I'm a kid or something? I need time too."
Neliel rolled onto her stomach, giving him a bright smile through the veil of her hair. "We don't think of you as a child," she said. "No child can fuck like you just did."
"Damn right."
They fell into a rather comfortable silence for long minutes. Kenpachi was halfway to dozing when Grimmjow broke the peace.
"Oy, Zaraki, are you disappointed?"
Kenpachi cracked his eye open. "'Bout what?"
"Not getting to fight your zanpaktou," Grimmjow said, his voice so light and casual that Kenpachi's hackles immediately went up. "Almost everyone else did, especially your subordinates."
"I got a pretty good fight against Komamura's," Kenpachi shrugged. He didn't say that he was actually relieved that his zanpaktou didn't manifest; that he wouldn't have known what to do if it had.
He might have shared his body with the two of them, but sharing thoughts and trust was an entirely different beast. He wasn't such a fool to mix the two up.
"Yeah, but fighting your own sword should be better, right?" Grimmjow said, rolling over. His blue eyes were mockingly sharp. "Mine gave me the best fight I've ever had."
Better than the one I had with you, he didn't have to say. Kenpachi heard it loud and clear.
Reaching his hands upwards, he stretched, yawning exaggeratedly. "Why don't you ask her?" he jerked his head towards Neliel. "She didn't fight against her zanpaktou as well, and she has even less of an excuse than I do."
Neliel was looking at him through heavy, hooded eyes. She gave him a crooked smirk, cocking her head to the side. "I don't take pleasure in fighting the way that you do, Zaraki-taichou," she murmured.
"Don't seem that way to me," Kenpachi snorted.
"Pleasure is a good reason," she told him, smirk widening. "Especially with an honourable man, and when it is clear that no one will dies for it."
"You have weird standards."
"And you haven't answered my question," Grimmjow said, shoving his face into Kenpachi's. He shoves a hand against it, feeling the bone fragment jab into his skin, not nearly sharp enough to draw blood.
"I'm not disappointed," he said, gritting his teeth. "And you're a fucking annoying bastard when you don't up a cock up your ass or a sword in your hand."
Instead of getting angry, Grimmjow only laughed, loud and raucuous.
Neliel crept forward, long limbs sliding over the sheets. Kenpachi took a moment to admire the contrast her tanned skin made amongst the white, to take in the stickiness between her thighs, before she wrapped her arm around his neck and tipped his head back.
"Don't mind him," she said, amused. "He's still a work in progress."
Kenpachi growled, grabbing Grimmjow's neck with one hand and Neliel's wrist with the other. He pulled them close, staring into their eyes.
"Both of you yabber on far too much," he said, narrowing his eyes. "Less talk, more fucking."
That was what they were here for, after all, and Kenpachi had always been a man who kept his goal always in sight.
Grimmjow finally shut the hell up when his mouth was otherwise occupied, and Kenpachi thought that he might just understand the value of silence that Kuchiki Byakuya and the old man was always yammering on about.
He wondered what they'd think if he told them that he learned about this by having two Arrancar in his bed. They'd probably have an aneurysm.
Yeah, he was definitely going to tell them. But it would have to wait until later – now he had round two of fucking to do.
Notes: I'm out of practice; I haven't written sex scenes in… over a year, or even more. I hope that it's not obvious.
Also, I'm not at all sorry that the R/M rating for this fic is still not for the main pairing. One day Shunsui and Starrk will have sex. One day. (Insert evil laughter soundtrack.)