One Moment
Chapter 18: All Sound the Same

Characters/Pairings: Starrk, Lilynette, Shunsui, Muramasa (kind of; you'll see), Yamamoto, Zaraki, Ukitake, Unohana, Mayuri, Lilynette, Rukia. Starrk/Shunsui and Lilynette/Rukia.
Rating: R
Words: ~10,600
Chapter Summary: An interrogation, an exploration, and a lot of flowers. The author is starting to lose her ability to summarise chapters.
Notes: Title cribbed from Little Talks by Of Monsters and Men.
Warning: Slightly disturbing (but non-explicit) description of sex.

Starrk tried his best to not fidget.

He and Lilynette had been released from Unohana Retsu's clutches after another three days in the Fourth. It was now a week since Muramasa had been 'defeated' – Yamamoto's words, not his own – and the Shinigami were all extremely interested in what exactly had happened. Shunsui had promised him that he wouldn't be punished – especially since he hadn't done anything criminal – but it was hard to have faith in those words when he could feel that clown-faced Captain's eyes on him, eyeing him as if he was a particularly interesting specimen he couldn't wait to dissect.

His hands twitched at his sides. He tried to not pull up his kimono to hide the scar that had replaced his Hollow hole.

"Now that everyone was here, we will begin," Yamamoto intoned, slamming his cane down hard on the ground.

Looking around himself, Starrk realised that 'everyone' meant the Captains, the Vice-Captains, Ukitake's Third Seats, Zaraki's Third and Fifth Seats, and Kuchiki Rukia; nearly every single person who was directly involved in what was now named the 'Zanpaktou Rebellion' then.

"Coyote Starrk," those old, hard eyes turned to him. "We'll have your testimony."

He exchanged a glance with Lilynette. They had been discussing about this, unwilling to head towards another situation where they would be scrutinised unprepared. When she nodded, Starrk took a deep breath.

"I'm not on trial," he said quietly. "Will you let me release the one who is?"

There was a sharp intake of breath from nearly everyone who was present, strong enough to cause a gust of wind to blow through Starrk's hair. He saw Ukitake lean forward, and tried not to smile at the way Shunsui's grin was half-hidden beneath the shadow of his straw hat.

They already knew what he and Lilynette were planning. They helped.

"What guarantee do we have that he will not attack us?" Yamamoto asked, eyes narrowed into slits. "What guarantee do we have that you will not aid him?"

Starrk shrugged helplessly; he couldn't change their minds if they were still determined to see him as a threat. But Lilynette shoved an elbow into his ribs, glaring at him, before she huffed and stepped forward.

"We didn't attack any of you during the whole thing," she pointed out, clearly irate. "In fact, we only were involved because we were trying to help you guys. Why would we attack you now?"

Yamamoto's eyes opened slightly wider, making him look less like a very old fox and more human. He glanced towards Shunsui and Ukitake before turning back to them.

"Release him then," he waved a hand. "It will serve to answer some other questions about the two of you as well."

Well, that went easier than he thought. Perhaps the period of self-imprisonment had been good for the old man. Starrk blinked, and immediately stopped himself in his tracks – he might be spending too much time around Shunsui if his inner voice was starting to sound as snarky as he did.

He drew the wakizashi on his hip. Beside him, Lilynette pulled the katana from where she kept it on her back – it was too long for her to keep on her hip in her current shape. They glanced at each other before laying the gleaming blades against each other, forming a cross.

"We can only release him together," he explained. "Even though there is two of us, there is only one of him." He glanced at Shunsui. "I suppose that it can be compared to taichou-san's two swords."

Shunsui had told him to use his old name for him when they were in public; not out of shame, but simply because it would be far simpler if the two of them didn't have to deal with suspicions of Shunsui's objectivity.

"Call, Masamune," he and Lilynette said together.

He could hear the gasp, the rising murmurs – at the changed name, the changed command. Yamamoto's eyes had flown wide open, and Starrk finally saw that they were nearly black. But his attention was caught mostly by the sight of the form that was slowly solidifying in front of him.

Not only Muramasa's name had changed. The face was the same, but the long nails and white clothes – his most distinctive features – were already gone. Instead, he was dressed in a black formal kimono and hakama, with a pelt of grey on his waist replacing the white obi and purple obi-age. The kimono itself had bright orange flame markings on the collar, and there was an eyepatch – identical to Starrk's in his resurreccion form – covering one eye. Around his neck was Starrk's collar of teeth.

There was absolutely no doubt whose zanpaktou he was.

Masamune tipped his head back and closed his eye, and the room was rocked by a sudden wave. The Shinigamis' swords rattled in their sheaths, and Starrk tried his best to ignore the yelling and shouting. He did notice, however, that Zaraki was staring at his sword with a fierce intensity.

"Once, my abilities were to break the bonds between a zanpaktou and its master," Masamune started, his voice low and soft. "Once, my abilities are used to strengthen my master's power, for he thought he could never have enough."

He turned, and his smile was gentle, completely clear of the darkness that had so haunted him before. "Now I strengthen your bonds. Now I give my masters' powers to your sword, such that they will never be broken."

"Do that again," Zaraki demanded, his voice cutting through the sudden roar like a knife. "Not for them. Just for me."

Masamune turned towards him. Slowly, he nodded.

Zaraki's sword shook in his grasp, as if it was screaming. The chipped edge started to glow, and, in front of all of their eyes, the teeth smoothed out, just a little.

"If you keep doing that, I might just end up knowing its name," Zaraki said, sounding thoughtful. Starrk never thought that he could sound that way.

"So he's telling the truth then, Zaraki?" one of the Captains said incredulously.

"Yeah," the hulking Captain nodded. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Feels a bit weird, but, fuck, I can actually hear a voice instead of this weird buzzing in my head."

"If they find my bankai, I will be able to heal your bankai as well," Masamune cut in before anyone else could say a word – not that they were going to, because Starrk noted that all of them were staring bug-eyed at either Zaraki or their swords.

… Now those bug-eyed stares are being directed at Masamune, who still looked perfectly serene. It was, Starrk thought, a good look on him; one that he was still unused to no matter how many times he saw it when he spoke to him inside that monochrome inner world of his.

"You know, there was said to be two master swordsmiths of the Living World – one named Masamune, one named Muramasa." Shunsui said, sounding as if the thought had just struck him.

"There was a legend about the two swordsmith that started during the Edo period in the Living World three or four hundred years ago," he continued, folding his arms. "During the autumn of one year, the two swordsmiths decided to test which had the better sword, and they decided to go to a river and try to cut the leaves falling from the trees."

"Get to your point, Kyouraku," Zaraki growled impatiently.

Shunsui's smile widened, and he tugged his hat down. "Maaa, Zaraki-taichou. Have some patience. I'm getting there.

"Both of their swords cut the leaves neatly into two with every swing. But the strange thing was… when the leaves cut by Masamune's sword fell into the river, they found their halves and joined together agan."

He shared a glance with Starrk, who had to stifle his own chuckles.

"It's a curious story, isn't t? And so terribly apt, with the change in the name."

"I did not choose the name. It chose me," Masamune said, spreading his arms out in an expansive shrug. "But this is a story I have heard before."

"Perhaps that is why the name resonates with you so," Shunsui said. He walked forward, looking as if he was taking a stroll in the gardens, entirely unaffected by the stares of everyone around him.

"But that's not the only changes you have gone through, is it?"

Masamune shook his head. "The last one isn't for me to demonstrate," he said.

"Oh, me, me!" Lilynette said, practically bouncing on her heels. "Let me do it!"

Starrk waved a hand lazily. "Go ahead."

Lilynette twirled her katana in her hand, looking far too gleeful.

"I don't like you as much as Starrk does," she said. "So keep that in mind."

With that, she raised her sword and stabbed it right into Shunsui's chest.

Except that the sword dematerialised right before it could sink into flesh. What Lilynette held in her hand was no longer a katana – it was just a hilt; the blade had completely disappeared.

The entire room had gone completely silent.

"Masamune can only hurt those who hurt us first," Lilynette explained cheerful, pulling the sword away. It regained its solidity the very moment the blade was no longer touching Shunsui. "He needs our blood to remain solid when stabbing someone."

"The only offensive power Masamune has is in the raw blades themselves," Starrk added softly. "All the rest of his abilities are for support. He is completely and utterly worthless as a weapon against the Shinigami, because he has been remade as a weapon to help you."

He probably didn't need to emphasise that so much, but Starrk was getting tired of being looked at with such suspicion.

"Zanpaktou are part of a Shinigami's soul," Masamune picked up the thread. "When my masters accepted me into themselves, I was remade according to their desires. While Kuchiki Kouga," Starrk was proud, so very proud, that Masamune's voice did not waver in the slightest when speaking that name, "wished for power, and more power, Starrk and Lilynette did not want any of it. They only wish to aid, and thus I have been remade."

"This is all fascinating."

Starrk couldn't help the shiver that ran down his spine at the voice. He did not turn, instead shifting his gaze slightly to look at the clown-faced Captain of the Twelfth. This was the man who defeated Szayel, according to Shunsui, and Starrk shivered at the look in his eyes – he had the same thread of madness that was in the Octava's.

"We can find out so much from them! The natures of Hollows and Shinigami and zanpaktou, not to mention the connection between Shinigami and Hollow… Why, we might even be able to change the very natures of our zanpaktou like they had!" He rubbed his hands together gleefully.

"When can I have them to begin my research?"

Shunsui was already moving, one hand grabbing hold of Lilynette's shoulder and the other around Starrk's wrist. But before he could even say a word, Yamamoto was already speaking.

"Never, Kurotsuchi."

"What?!"

Yamamoto folded his hands on top of his desk, his gaze hardening as it landed on the Captain of the Twelfth. "There will be more wars coming," he said. Though his voice was quiet, it filled the room entirely, like the smoke of a flame. "I cannot allow you to destroy one of our assets."

He turned towards Shunsui, and Starrk might just be hallucinating it, but he could see the barest hint of a smile on those stern, thin lips.

"You have won your gamble, Shunsui, Jyuushirou."

A gamble? Starrk's breath caught in his throat.

But Shunsui was right next to him, his breath brushing against his neck as the Captain whispered: "Politics. Please don't take offense. I'll explain later."

He nodded slowly. His instincts were screaming for him to pull away, that Shunsui was lying to him, but Starrk gritted his teeth and pushed them down. He trusted this man. He would keep trusting him until… until when? Until the day he found Lilynette with Shunsui's sword through her belly? No, Shunsui wouldn't— he pulled the thoughts into a forceful stop.

Surely there was no reason for him to be so paranoid. Surely.

Yamamoto was eyeing the two of them, and Starrk really wasn't imagining things, because the old man was smiling.

"I will convince Central 46 to continue letting the two of you to go free, for you are not a threat," he announced. "But in order for me to do so, I will need you to tell me everything."

Starrk shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to focus.

"What do you wish to know?" he asked, trying to keep the tiredness out of his voice. He knew what was coming already.

"An explanation for the other swords you have and when you gained it," Yamamoto said, raising his eyebrows. "The level of your power. All of your current abilities, including those in your released form. The events that occurred that resulted in Muramasa choosing the two of you as his new masters and becoming Masamune."

He leaned in. "But most importantly… What are you now? Your Hollow holes have healed over, and I presume it is because of Masamune's presence in your souls."

Starrk winced. He had been hoping that they wouldn't ask about that.

"We have no fucking idea," Lilynette chirped cheerfully, as blunt and unsubtle as a punch in the face. Given what he had seen from Zaraki and his Division, there was really no wonder at all that she fitted so well amongst them.

He bopped her on the head. "We don't know," he said hesitantly. "I don't think there's a word for what we are now."

Shunsui made a contemplative sound. "They were Arrancar. They still are, and they have kept their zanpaktou. But they have also gained a Shinigami's zanpaktou. They are two, capable of releasing Los Lobos alone. But they are also one, because they can only release Masamune together. Yama-jii, I don't think language can encompass all that they are."

"There's a whole lot of words to say absolutely noth- mmmph!"

Starrk wrapped a loving hand around Lilynette's mouth, glaring at her out of the corner of his eye. "Quiet," he hissed.

She returned his glare with just as much force, but subsided.

"Unohana?" Yamamoto was thankfully ignoring them, turning to his Fourth Division Captain.

"I have examined them for a full week," Unohana said, just as unconcerned as Shunsui was by all the faces turned towards her. Starrk wondered how they did it; was it something that came with age?

"There is the undercurrent of a Hollow in them," she was saying, "but their reiatsu is almost completely Shinigami. Gaining Masamune has not given them back their hearts, but their souls have been repaired."

Starrk blinked. What? Looking at Masamune, he saw his shock mirrored on his sword's face. If what Unohana was saying was true, it wasn't what Masamune had intended… somehow, that was a relief.

Yamamoto squinted at the female Captain. "Elaborate," he demanded.

"Their souls are whole," Unohana said. "But they, like a Hollow and unlike any Shinigami, also carry other broken souls within their own. I believe that they were only capable of accepting Masamune within them because they were almost whole in the first place." She continued, serenely: "They are also perfectly healthy. Surely that is the most important fact of the matter?"

That gentle, sweet smile was the most terrifying thing Starrk had ever seen. He blinked, staring at her. He was extremely glad that she was on his side, and made a note to never, ever make her turn her ire towards him for any reason. He might have survived Aizen, but he wasn't sure if he could survive her.

"What of their connection to each other?" Yamamoto looked completely unfazed. Starrk's respect for him upped a notch.

Unohana shrugged, somehow making that gesture look graceful. "They are one and they are also two. I suppose the closest analogy would be that of identical twins, or even siblings, but that comparison is inadequate to truly explaining the connections between their souls."

Lilynette jerked in his arms. Starrk blinked, looking at his other half, but Lilynette was avoiding his gaze.

… What was that all about? Could Lilynette be hiding something from him?

He opened his mouth to ask, but he was distracted as the clown-faced Captain practically lunged towards him. Starrk shrank back, but Ukitake was faster, grabbing hold of his colleague's haori and refusing to let go.

The white-haired man smiled, all teeth. "If I may offer my opinion, Genryuusai-sensei?"

"Go ahead," Yamamoto waved an imperious hand.

"They are clearly a new category of hybrid, one that we have never seen before. The circumstances are remarkable, and, personally, I do not believe they are repeatable. As such, I suggest that we name the category 'Starrk and Lilynette'. It will serve well enough for now."

Starrk was beginning to pick up on the game being played here. It was a dangerous game, and one that seemed to have his and Lilynette's fates in balance. Every Captain who had spoken had their own agendas and personal interests in mind, and yet they were all hiding it behind politeness while constantly appealing to others' interests.

They were all spiders, spinning a huge spiders' web. But Starrk wasn't the prey that they were trying to catch; he suspected they were aiming for something far bigger – the Central 46 that the old man had mentioned, perhaps? Or were they all trying to catch each other?

Worse of all, it seemed that that playing this game was absolutely necessary: Kurotsuchi wasn't hiding his interests whatsoever, and he was obviously not getting what he wanted. In fact… the ones who were best at playing the game were the three oldest Captains, and they had managed to draw Yamamoto to their side… to his side.

Suddenly, Starrk was extremely aware that he had allies; comrades. Though this wasn't exactly the kind of battlefield he had envisioned – he had always thought it would involve more sharp blades than sharp tongues, and definitely not in an enclosed room – but they were allies, nonetheless.

He swallowed hard. Turning, he whispered: "You don't have to explain, Shunsui. I understand now."

Shunsui arched an eyebrow. "You do?"

"Mm," Starrk said. "All of you… you're twisting words to suit your purposes, just like Aizen had. But… you're doing it for my and Lilynette's sakes." Without them, he was sure that he would have been executed by now, or even worse. He took a deep breath, and forged on.

"I think that makes all the difference."

The smile Shunsui gave him was bright and warm. He brushed his fingers over Starrk's arm. "I knew you would understand," he said.

It wasn't an attempt to lie to or hide anything from him, Starrk realised. It was the opposite: Shunsui trusted him, and knew that Starrk would be able to figure out what was happening without being told. He bit his lip, fighting down the instinctive blush at the thought.

"Pay attention," Shunsui nudged him, grinning.

Right. The game was still continuing, and he couldn't afford to simply turn it off.

The clown-faced Captain had been ranting for the past few minutes. He was petering off now, seemingly cowed by Yamamoto's steady, narrow-eyed glare.

"'Hybrid' will have to do. For now," he said when silence finally fell once more. He waved a hand, as if batting away everything that the Captain had said. "And no matter what you say, Kurotsuchi, I will not turn them over to you as experiments. They serve too well as possible tools for war."

Before the man could react, Yamamoto turned his beady eyes back to Starrk and Lilynette.

"Now, regarding the other questions…?"

Lilynette heaved a loud sigh, scratching the back of her neck. Starrk was glad that she didn't decide to pick her nose or something equally crass, but he had to agree with her.

This was going to take a long time.

"Take off your shoes and socks," Rukia said, tugging off her own. "You can't wear them where we're going."

"Eh?" Lilynette blinked, obeying nonetheless. "Is the ground all covered in tatami in Inuzuri?"

Rukia barked a laugh. "Far from it," she said. "It's full of pebbles and rocks and gravel and sometimes even glass. You'll have to be careful and look where you're going so you don't cut your soles."

"Wouldn't it be smarter to wear shoes, then?"

"Not if you don't want to be attacked the moment you get in," she shook her head. "That's also why we're only going by shunpo to the very outskirts, by the way. We'll have to walk inside."

Before Lilynette could protest, or make another comment, Rukia continued briskly. "Did you manage to get the ruined yukatas I asked for?"

"Yep," the other girl nodded. "Don't tell me: I had to bring these because wearing clean clothes in Inuzuri is asking to be attacked?"

"Yeah," Rukia nodded. She hesitated for a moment. "Are you sure you want to go?"

Lilynette scowled, punching her on the shoulder. "Stop asking me that!" she grumbled. "I want to see where you grew up, alright?

"I'm not going to rescue you if you get mobbed by someone," Rukia threatened.

"I can handle myself," Lilynette waved a negligent hand.

"Take this seriously!"

"I am, I am!" Lilynette yelped, covering her head to try to protect herself from Rukia's violent whacks. "Look, I'll be just fine. I don't need Renji or Starrk to come with us."

She paused for a moment before she gave Rukia a crooked smile, the edges filled with secrets. "Don't worry about me."

Rukia dragged a hand through her hair. She did try to be angry about Lilynette still keeping secrets from her, but that particular flame died before it could even ignite. Though Lilynette hadn't told her just what had happened during her and Starrk's time with Aizen, she understood perfectly well how long it took to learn to trust.

Especially after the long morning and early afternoon the other girl had spent being interrogated by a whole group of Shinigami who still looked at her with suspicion despite all that she had done to help them. Then again, Rukia couldn't blame the Captains either; none of them had witnessed for themselves the depths at which Lilynette was willing to sink just to help those around her.

Those witnesses weren't allowed into the room. And Rukia hadn't spoken a word in her defense.

Biting back a sigh, she dismissed the guilt with some difficulty. "Come on then," she urged instead.

They changed quickly into the filthy, torn yukatas and headed out of the door of her quarters in the Thirteenth. Rukia had already told Ukitaki-taichou where they were going, so they simply dropped by his office to tell him where they were going before heading off.

At the Division's gates, Lilynette's hand wrapped around her wrist. Rukia glanced at the point of contact before she smiled wryly.

"Don't tell me that you can't follow me without holding on."

"Shut up," Lilynette huffed, jerking her head away. "I just don't want to get lost, alright? I've never been to Rukongai."

It was such a terrible excuse that Rukia couldn't help but burst out laughing. But she didn't make Lilynette let go, instead moving into shunpo. Beside her, Lilynette was in sonido was well, keeping pace perfectly.

Or maybe she was slowing down so she didn't start pulling Rukia along like a sack of rice.

They stopped at the very outskirts of Inuzuri, right at the borders between it and the Seventy-Ninth District of South Rukongai. Pulling away from Lilynette, Rukia reached down. It was rather lucky that the autumn rains came just a day before; the dirt beneath their feet was still wet.

She picked up a handful of mud and smeared it across Lilynette's clothes.

"Oy! Rukia- what- stop that!"

"We're still too clean," Rukia avoided those flailing hands, muttering until her breath. "And we don't stink enough. But if we have mud on us, then they won't look too closely…"

Lilynette grabbed her hands with one of her own, glaring. After a moment, she picked up a fistful of mud and slung it right into Rukia's face.

"If I have to be smeared in mud, then so do you," the girl said triumphantly.

Rukia rolled her eyes, wiping the thin, drippy mess out of her eyes. "I was going to do that right after I was done with you."

"Sure," Lilynette drawled. She wiped her dirty hands all over Rukia's yukata, leaving streaks of mud behind.

"You should really stop worrying so much," she said, squatting down to smear mud all over Rukia's knees and ankles. "We're not going to be attacked, and I'm not going to blow your cover. Alright?"

She lifted her head, her single red eye serious. "I know how to act in places like these."

Rukia blinked, trying to not shiver from the frisson of surprise that ran through her. Honestly, she should have known that there was more than one reason why Lilynette was so incredibly interested in visiting Inuzuri. It couldn't just be because she wanted to see the place that Rukia had grown up.

They headed towards the district together. Rukia bit her lip, quashing down the instinctive guilt when she realised that the conditions hadn't bettered in the fifty years she had been gone. She and Renji had once sworn that they would change Inuzuri; that they would make sure to get into positions powerful enough to do something about the conditions in the higher-numbered districts so that no one would ever have to starve or steal just to eat.

But they had forgotten. They had left Rukongai behind, running and running away from it, trying to become people who were deemed 'acceptable' by the Shinigami and nobles in Seireitei. Rukia had the power of the Kuchiki name, and yet she didn't have the strength to ask her honoured brother to alleviate the cruelty of the place that had made her sister abandon her. Renji received a Vice-Captain's salary, but he splashed it all on expensive sunglasses to pretend to be more than the stray dog that everyone named him to be, to give himself an excuse to not look at Inuzuri.

Rukia wasn't a fool. All the years she had spent in Kuchiki Manor, learning how to speak as nobles did and listen to all the underlying meanings in their words and intentions, had taught her how to unravel Seireitei's politics. The powerful did not want to lose their privileges and their position of power, and power in Soul Society had an obvious source – reiatsu. If it was widely acknowledged that the 'wandering souls' could own reiatsu as strong or even stronger than those born within Seireitei, it threatened the power the nobles have held for so many years, and their comfortable life would crumble and fall apart in front of their very eyes.

So souls in Rukongai were starved. So they were left alone, without aid, with the nobles watching and secretly hoping that anyone with power would end up dead, returned to the cycle. And those who did manage to make their way to Seireitei were looked down upon, forced to hide or even erase their former roots to achieve the position of a seated officer.

She hadn't been blind. She was simply paralysed, unable to do anything. As a mere unseated officer, as someone who was still uncertain about her place in the Kuchiki family, there was really nothing she could do.

"Here looks really different from Seireitei, huh," Lilynette said, breaking out of her dark thoughts. Rukia blinked, turning to see the other girl giving her a small, wry smile.

"Yeah."

"I suppose that people don't change at all, not even in the world of the dead," Lilynette murmured, leaning against the wall to stare at the milling, wandering souls who populated Inuzuri.

The comment didn't make sense at all unless… unless Lilynette knew exactly what she was thinking about. She turned, staring at the other girl.

That was when she noticed the mask fragment that was still in full display.

Immediately, she tore off a strip of cloth from the bottom of her yukata. "Stay still," she ordered, reaching over and tying the thing around the eyepatch and mask fragment. It was, she thought, a good thing that the mask was broken to a more manageable size. There would have been no way to hide a full helmet, especially with those horns.

"They would attack you even more if they even suspect that you're Hollow," she said, moving behind Lilynette to tighten the knot. Then she picked up another small handful of mud and splattered it all over the cloth to match the filth on Lilynette's face.

"Okay, okay," Lilynette rolled her eye, but she stayed still nonetheless. "Show me how you grew up already."

So Rukia did. They walked along the streets, ducking into alleys whenever the main gang that ruled Inuzuri walked past. She knew from experience that these men kept track of almost every single soul who lived in the district they claimed as their territory, and new faces – especially two who looked like young girls – were simply easy prey in their eyes.

At some point, they were hungry, and Lilynette was insisting that she showed her a 'less fucking PG-rated version' of her childhood. So Rukia pretended to steal – well, she did steal, but she left money behind – from the fruits-seller, noting that the mean-faced old man had been replaced by a younger one with an even harsher face.

She tried not to think about how that old man must be dead by now. She also tried to think too much about how well Lilynette took to the role of a lookout.

Now they were sitting by the canal's banks, staring into the clean water, watching the fish as they wriggled. It was always a risk to try to catch any of them, she knew; the gang in charge always kept a guard out on the canal, to stop people from finding fish to eat to stave off their hunger. When she and Renji were children, they used to hide and wait until the guards were distracted – most often when they were fucking a woman who might or might not be willing – before they went for the fish.

Of course, she tried to censor the part about the distraction, but Lilynette figured it out anyway. Thankfully, this time, they didn't need to wait for a distraction – they just knocked out the guards and left them propped up by some nearby trees. If the schedules hadn't changed for fifty years – and Rukia didn't expect for them to – then they had something like two hours or so to themselves.

They finished their apples, rolling the cores on the grass. Rukia sighed, and gave in to her curiosity.

"What do you remember about your life before you died?" she asked. "And don't give me a vague answer like 'everything'."

Lilynette giggled, shoulders shaking. "Aw, you ruined what I was going to say."

Rukia waited, raising an eyebrow.

After a long moment, Lilynette sighed. "The place where I grew up isn't much different from this one," she said, her voice so quiet that Rukia had to strain to hear her. "I mean… the air is a lot cleaner here, and there is clean water and I can see the sky… but the people's eyes are the same. They all look… hungry and defeated."

She tugged on the ends of her hair. "Are you sure you want to hear this?"

"I showed you the way I grew up," Rukia pointed out. "It's only fair that you tell me, right? Especially since you do remember."

Lilynette laughed again, the sound darker than before. "Okay. But I have to warn you, it might not all correct. I remember, but I only manage to piece everything together after I died."

"What do you mean?"

"I couldn't think properly while I was alive," Lilynette said, shrugging casually. "Some kind of brain damage from when my father tried to beat me to death when I was three."

Rukia stared. "I think," she managed to choke out after long moments of trying to process the information and failing, "you better start at the beginning."

"Okay," Lilynette stretched out her arms, dropping back to lie on the grass. "I was the youngest in the family, I think. My father was a tailor, or a farm hand, or something of that sort." She slid her eye to Rukia, giving her an amused look. "Are you sure you want to hear this? It's not going to be a good story because I don't remember a lot of it."

"Yes," Rukia nodded.

"Don't regret it," Lilynette sighed. "Okay, so, my father worked at some sort of job, but he lost it because… there were these huge machines, you see? They did work faster and better than people, so all the rich men were replacing people with machines and my father lost his job. When he did, well, he got angry and a little crazy... or so my brother said."

"Your brother?"

"I'll let you guess," she grinned, rolling onto her stomach and kicking her legs in the air. "He had brown hair, grey-blue eyes, and had been failing to grow a beard ever since he reached puberty. Oh, and he attracted a lot of weirdos."

There was only one possible person who had a connection to Lilynette who could fit that description. Rukia opened her mouth. Closed it.

"Starrk was your brother when you were alive?!"

"Bingo," Lilynette giggled. "I always knew you were smart."

Rukia made an impatient gesture, telling Lilynette to keep going.

"I was born looking weird," the girl obliged. "I had really pale skin, white hair, and red eyes, like some kind of ghost. And talking about ghosts… weird things always happened around the family. After I died, I realised it's because Hollows are attracted to me… well, to us, because they went after R- after Starrk too.

"So my father was pissed at the world and weird shit was happening and I looked like a ghost, so of course he thought everything bad was my fault. Like I was cursed somehow…" she looked away. "He tried to kill me when I was three."

Lilynette heaved a sigh. "You know, I actually am not sure if all of this is true. Starrk was the one who told me about it when I was older because I kept bugging him about it. He might have lied."

"What happened next?" Rukia asked softly.

"I never recovered from that beating," Lilynette told her softly. "Not until I died. But anyway, everyone in our town was starving at the time, so Starrk took me and went to the big city." She frowned a little, concentrating. "I think its name was London… I never really noticed. Actually, I didn't realise that I was in a completely new place until years later and I finally realised that the rivers and trees were gone and there were a hell lot more people."

London. Rukia knew that place; it was the island on the other side of the huge ocean that separated Japan from what was now commonly known in the Living World as 'the West'. It was also, she thought wryly, the place where English came from.

This explained why Lilynette and Starrk's names seemed so different, so much simpler, than the other Arrancars'. Rukia made a note to harass Ichigo into researching the history of England as soon as she could; she knew he would be happy to be of some use, especially if she played up on the fact that there was no Internet in Soul Society.

"I'm sick of talking," Lilynette said, jumping up. "Let's go explore some more."

Rukia nodded, standing up as well. She didn't bother to brush away the grass stain; it would add some authenticity to the mud caked in her clothes.

"I want to know the rest, you know, but I think…" she trailed off.

"You think?" Lilynette prompted.

"I think you should tell me the whole story after you help Starrk remember," she grinned.

"You're not going to give up on that, are you," Lilynette stated flatly.

"Nope," Rukia laughed. "How do you expect me to when you've just told me that your story is missing details that only Starrk can fill in?"

She reached out, grabbing Lilynette's wrist, tugging on it. "Now come on. I have a place to show you."

It had been years since she had visited her old friends' graves. She would tell them about everything that had happened ever since she left Inuzuri with Renji, and…

She would introduce Lilynette to them too. They would probably like her.

Mid-afternoon in spring brought along with it a subtle chill, the very last vestiges of winter winds drifting in air, caressing skin. Starrk shivered, enjoying the cold. The new change in his body had lessened his hierro until he could actually feel the change in the weather, and he stroked his fingers along his own arm, marvelling at the feel of goosebumps rising, pebbling the skin. He hadn't even thought he was capable of such a thing.

It was so strangely human

A heavy pink kimono was dropped onto his shoulders, and Starrk tipped his head up. Shunsui's face, upside-down, greeted him, and he returned smile for smile.

"Won't you be colder than I am?" he raised an eyebrow.

Shunsui laughed, tucking the kimono even more securely around him. "I'm used to this weather," the Captain murmured, brushing his lips over his hair. "But this is your first spring."

Starrk shivered slightly from the feel of the kiss. It was warm, but it didn't burn; there was no blood trickling down his face.

"We could go inside," he said, trying his best to not give in to the blush that was slowly colouring his cheeks and neck.

Laughing, Shunsui dropped down to sit next to him. "And miss this sight?" he asked, waving an arm around himself.

The gardens of the Eighth Division were filled with trees in bloom, white and pink petals gently floating down. There were bits of green too, unopened buds still clinging onto the branches. Starrk feasted his eyes on the sight, on the colours, so different from the dull grey world of Hueco Mundo, from the stark white of Las Noches.

He blinked, looking down as Shunsui plopped down, head resting on his thigh. Reaching out cautiously, his fingers found the tie of the other man's hair, pulling it loose and fanning out the strands until brown waves sprawled all over the dark blue of his borrowed hakama.

Shunsui grinned up at him, grabbing his hand and nuzzling over the back of it.

"When I first became the Captain of the Eighth, I decided that the grounds of the Division would be the most beautiful in spring," he said, voice soft and hypnotic. "No matter how much Yama-jii scolded me, I insisted on having the sakura trees planted here."

"Why did the old man scold you?"

"Because of the irony," Shunsui laughed. "I was born in Seireitei and I had never known death personally, and my power guaranteed me a long life; and yet I fill the place I live with the symbol of transience. But… I think this is the place that keeps me grounded. Every spring, I am reminded that, no matter how long I have lived, I should never forget that I shouldn't let anything stop me from getting what I want, because I might just die the next day."

Transience. The word wormed into Starrk's chest, tugging hard on the knot deep within, threatening to unravel him entirely. No, it threatened to unravel the entire world, setting off a series of whispers in his mind: this isn't real, this is just another lie.

He closed his eyes and breathed out hard through his teeth. He continued to stroke his fingers through Shunsui's long, slightly rough strands, trying his best to still the minor trembling.

"Is that why you took your chance with me?" he asked, and was surprised at how steady his voice sounded.

"Only partly," Shunsui replied, his shrug pressing broad shoulders against Starrk's stomach. "The only question my mind had to decide on was how far I was willing to go to have what I want, for my heart had already made its choice."

Starrk's breath stuttered in his throat. He swallowed hard, and forced the words out: "What is it you want, Shunsui?"

"Mm?"

"You told me that you want to make love to me," Starrk began, tilting his head back to stare at the trees. He couldn't appreciate the beauty now, not with the heaviness of his thoughts weighing down on his lungs. "But I don't know what that means."

Shunsui opened his mouth, but Starrk slid his hand over it, stilling him. A pink petal floated down, its white tip stark against Shunsui's hair, and he picked it up, rubbing his fingers over the silky softness.

"Sakura petals bloom and die within two weeks," he murmured. "Their beauty is in how fleeting it is. Is that what you wish from me? A fleeting passion?"

He doubted his own words even as he spoke them. If it was merely his body Shunsui wanted, he could have it long ago, without much effort. If he wished for Starrk's heart, then it was already hopeless; he had none. But if he wished for his very soul, then… then for how long would he want it? How long would it take until Shunsui peel him apart and saw him as what he truly was, until he finally noticed all the scars rent deep into Starrk's soul, unable to be healed, and found it too ugly for his tastes?

Caught up in his thoughts, Starrk didn't notice when Shunsui moved. He gasped, breath escaping out of parted lips in a rush, when grey eyes were suddenly close to his. Large, calloused hands cupped his face, and Starrk forced himself to not close his eyes.

Their bodies were barely an inch apart.

"The beauty of the sakura might be transient, but it is enduring nonetheless," Shunsui told him. His hands slid into Starrk's hair, holding him still and refusing to let him turn away from that fierce and brightly burning gaze. "For a thousand years I have gazed upon them, but the sight of them in bloom has never stopped taking my breath away."

His fingers gentled on Starrk's jaw, stroking downwards to caress his neck. The touch was strangely, strikingly intimate.

"Tell me what you're thinking about, Starrk-san. Tell me what brought this on."

Starrk let out a shuddering exhale. His hands moved up, closing around Shunsui's wrist, fingers pressing into the fragile bones until he could feel the thrumming pulse beneath the skin. He closed his eyes, leaning forward until he rested his forehead against the other man's.

"You have done so much for me," he said. "You have played dangerous games against your fellow Shinigami for the sake of defending me. You have stayed by my side, supported my ideas even when I am not sure of their source. What could I offer you that will be equal to that?"

Shunsui started, his body pressing against Starrk's for the briefest moment.

"Starrk-san," he said slowly. "What makes you think that you have to return to me equal to what I choose to give?"

"There is nothing that is ever given freely," Starrk said, voice flat and dull. "There is always a price to be paid."

He felt more than heard Shunsui's breathing hitch.

"Is this," the Captain said, his voice soft and careful, "a lesson you learned from Aizen?"

Starrk opened his eyes, pulling away. "Not only from him," he said, carefully averting his eyes from Shunsui's.

"Who?"

"From Harribel, who offered to see me as a comrade if I promise to give her information about what happens here that might affect Hueco Mundo," he said, staring blankly at the grass beneath his knees. "From the Shinigami, who allowed me to stay when they realised that my power can be useful to them."

He gave Shunsui a wry smile, sorrow tugging the edges down. "From you, who had to call me an asset just to get your comrades to accept me in their midst."

There was a long silence as Shunsui considered his words. Then Starrk heard a heavy sigh, and he allowed Shunsui's fingertips to tip his head up, and closed his eyes when he felt that soft kiss on his brow.

"Though I wish that everyone can see you as I do, I cannot force them to do so," he said quietly, and Starrk shivered because it was similar, so similar, to what Aizen had told him before.

I cannot convince them to befriend you, Starrk.

The memories threatened to overwhelm him again, but Shunsui's next words shattered them like glass.

"I cannot answer for their actions or their words, but I can answer for mine: I want nothing from you but what you wish to give."

He blinked, eyes widening. "What—"

Shunsui looked at him, smile a little crooked, eyes darkened with sorrow. "Is that so difficult to believe?" he asked.

"Yes," Starrk breathed, hands clenching by his sides. "I… Shunsui, I might give you nothing. Even after all you have done, I might still push you away. I might even leave, and never see you again. Will you be fine with that? Won't you regret all your efforts if they come to nothing?"

"Well, I would be disappointed, true," Shunsui nodded. "But Starrk-san, I won't be disappointed because all my efforts have gone to waste. I would be disappointed because your leaving will deprive me of your presence, and that is what I wish for most."

"My… presence?" He knew he was gaping, but he was far beyond caring about how foolish he must surely look.

"Do you think you give me nothing by just staying here by my side?" Shunsui asked, leaning forward again, pressing their foreheads together. "Do you think I gain nothing by just feeling your hands on my skin, your fingers on my hair? Do you think I do not feel pleasure by the feel of your warmth, your solidity, against me like this?"

Not for the first time, Starrk found all words escaping him. His mouth was dry, but he didn't dare to dart his tongue out for fear that he would kiss Shunsui. And if he kissed the man, he didn't think he would stop, and he wanted to hear more.

"The sight of your smile warms me even in the very depth of winter," Shunsui continued, his hand gently carding through Starrk's hair. "When you let me kiss you, the taste of your lips is sweeter than any dessert could ever give me. Do you think that is nothing?"

"I…"

"Shhh…" Shunsui shushed him with a breath of warm air across his mouth. "Let me finish."

Starrk could only nod.

"I did not do what I have for you for the sake of racking up a debt," the Captain said. "I do it because there is nothing that makes me happier than to make you happy. You see, Starrk-san… I frequently think that I am not doing enough, because there are still such dark shadows in your eyes and nothing I do seems capable of chasing them away."

"What if you chase them all away?" Starrk asked, barely able to speak. "What if there are no more wounds for you to heal?"

"Then I will bask in the brilliance of all the smiles you give."

"What if…" Starrk grasped at straws, trying to not fall into the abyss that he could see looming right below him. "What if I don't leave here, but instead… instead choose to be with someone else?"

Shunsui chuckled softly. The back of his fingers stroked over Starrk's cheeks, infinitely gentle. "Then I will stay your friend, and let your happiness warm me from afar," he said, so softly that Starrk felt the shape of the words more than heard them. "Though I don't promise to leave the one you choose alone until I find them worthy of you."

Starrk squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't breathe, his lungs seizing up. Blindly, he scrabbled at Shunsui's shoulders, slowly moving upwards until he feels stubble and jawline underneath callouses.

When their lips touched, it felt like falling, like drowning. Except there was no hard ground to shatter his bones, no pressure to crush his lungs; there was only warmth.

"I see an abyss before me," he murmured against Shunsui's lips. "It should terrify me, for it is dark and I have no idea what awaits more there. But I'm falling and falling and I'm not afraid at all, because somehow I know that it's safe, and it is warm."

He pulled away slightly, tugging the pink kimono off his shoulders and draped it over Shunsui's. At the confusion in those bright grey eyes, he laughed.

"You keep me warm enough to not need this," he said.

"Starrk-san," Shunsui started, but he placed a finger on those lips to still them.

"Just 'Starrk' will do, Shunsui," he crooked a smile. "It'll be strange if you still use honourifics with me when I'm already yours."

There was only silence for long moments, as if the world itself was holding its breath. Starrk held Shunsui's gaze, refusing to look away even though the sight of white-pink petals falling onto oak-coloured hair tried to distract him.

When Shunsui shoved him to the ground, Starrk only found himself laughing again. The grass made for a good cushion, and he arched up towards Shunsui's chest as he was kissed.

It felt, tasted, so much better when he wasn't in a hospital bed, when his nose and mouth were not clogged up by antiseptic and dryness.

"Of all times for poetry and metaphors…" Shunsui's laughter was half-mangled by Starrk's lips and skin. "You are going to be the death of me one day."

"I'd rather not be," Starrk murmured in reply. "I've been the death of too much to want to be yours."

Shunsui's fingers brushed over his face, trailing from hairline to jaw. Starrk tipped his head down to meet those grey eyes, his own widened in surprise at the sudden gentleness when it had been all heat and intensity just a second before.

"This seems like a dream," Shunsui said, and he was so close that Starrk could feel the soft edges of his words against his skin. "Tell me, Starrk: did you mean it? Would you really choose someone else?"

He blinked. Surely not…? But yes, there it was, the hint of darkness in Shunsui's gaze, something that Starrk could easily identify as jealousy. Slowly, his lips twitched, and he couldn't contain himself: he burst into chuckles, burying his face into Shunsui's shoulders to try to muffle the sound.

"Don't laugh at me!" Shunsui protested. "I'm being serious here!"

The petulance in his tone, so unfitting to a man Starrk knew to be centuries his elder, made him laugh even harder. His entire body shook, and his fingers dug into the rich silk of the kimono, holding on as he tried to stop himself from convulsing.

When Shunsui shove him hard onto the ground, pinning him onto the grass, he was still so caught up in his mirth that he barely noticed. He did notice, however, when Shunsui kissed him again, his generous mouth swallowing down the sounds, his body pinning him down, pressing the air out of his chest until he stopped laughing just so he could breathe.

But he was still grinning helplessly when he looked at Shunsui again. Reaching up, he slid his hands into Shunsui's hair, mussing up the strands until they fell around that strong jaw and framed the high cheekbones.

"There is no one else," Starrk said softly. "And there will not be anyone else."

Shunsui cocked his head. Though his face was still, his eyes were brightening, turning more amused. "Why?"

"Don't you already know the answer?"

"Indulge me."

Letting another quiet laugh escape, Starrk obliged. After all, why shouldn't he, especially after all the beautiful words Shunsui had given him as reassurance? Why shouldn't he, when those words had loosened the knot in his chest and made all of his shields and defences fall down until he allowed himself to be surrounded by the warmth of the abyss?

Closing his eyes, Starrk smiled as he leaned forward until their foreheads touched again. "You're like no one I have ever met," he whispered. "You wield words as weapons, but they are tempered with kindness. Yet your compassion is not your weakness, it is instead the strength of the hand that wields your words."

He let out a breath, letting it curl over Shunsui's mouth.

"You showed me the truth behind the web of lies I was caught within," he continued. "Instead of telling it all to me, instead of forcing me to choose between trusting you and trusting what I knew before, you showed me. You allowed me to find out all I needed to myself, and so find myself out of the maze of falseness I was trapped in."

Slowly, he pulled back, his lips curving up into a crooked, ironic smile. "Anyone who wishes to have me will have a hard act to live up to, and I don't think anyone would bother."

Shunsui stared at him for a moment before he threw his head back and laughed, the sound rumbling in his chest.

"I haven't the intention to court you," he said, still chuckling. "But it seems that it is exactly what I have been doing."

He leaned in even closer, their bodies pressing against each other. Though there were some similarities – hard lines against hard lines – it was different, so very different, than anything Starrk had ever done with Aizen. Aizen had never looked at him with those eyes; Aizen had never touched him like this: fierce possessiveness tempered with tenderness, raging desire held back by love.

"Indulge me once more," Shunsui murmured, his lips trailing little kisses over Starrk's cheek. "If someone else – say, Ukitake – has done all I had for you, will you be theirs?"

Starrk blinked. Shunsui was truly full of surprises today, he thought wryly, and turned his head, burying his nose into rich brown hair.

"No," he said, the word sinking into him, burrowing deep with its certainty. "Even if they had done all that you had, I could not have been theirs. They would not have the strength to stand beside me, or the self-possession to stand back to allow me to fight my own battles, or the broadness of mind to appreciate my being able to pick them apart."

He brushed a fingertip over Shunsui's eyelash, watching as the lid fell close under his touch. "Only you have all of these."

"No praise for my intelligence?" Shunsui teased, brushing their lips together. "I'm almost insulted."

"I have already praised it," Starrk replied archly. And he had: after all, what man could play dangerous games with words and win if not one who had an incredibly sharp intelligence?

Shunsui laughed. "So you had," he said, and Starrk found another reason to fall into the abyss. It was rare to find a man who could pluck the unspoken words from the air and bring them to his ears effortlessly, and he thought that, perhaps, fate favoured him this time to allow him to find Shunsui.

They laid there for long moments, breathing againt each other's skin. It was warm, almost stiflingly so, for their bodies barred the winter wind from touching them.

Eventually, haltingly, Starrk lifted his hips upwards, just a little bit. He had noticed the heat there long before, at the exact moment when Shunsui had pushed him to the grass.

"I can't do anything about this if you don't move off of me," he said quietly.

Shunsui's inhale was so sharp that it almost scraped over Starrk's ears. "I told you that you don't have to give me anything you are not willing to."

For the first time, Starrk heard the note of hesitation in the other man's voice.

He smiled, nudging those broad shoulders. When Shunsui lifted himself up with his hands, he pushed harder, reversing their positions until he was on top of the other man.

Shunsui was still looking at him with wide, uncertain eyes. Starrk leaned in, kissing him softly, his hand stroking the loosened strands of hair from root to tip. "I wouldn't have mentioned it if I'm not willing," he murmured.

Then, before Shunsui could protest even more, Starrk moved down his body. Fingers found the laces keeping the hakama on those strong hips, and he drew them out before biting on one, pulling it loose. He heard the hitch of breath, and grinned to himself as he tugged the cloth down.

Somehow, he wasn't particularly surprised that Shunsui didn't have any underwear beneath his hakama.

"Is this your way of repaying a debt?" Shunsui asked, his voice trembling slightly.

Starrk shook his head, nuzzling the side of one muscled thigh. "It isn't."

"Are you sure?"

The sharp edge in Shunsui's voice had him looking up. He met Shunsui's eyes, and smiled wryly. "Would you rather think that I am whoring myself out to you?" he drawled.

Shunsui narrowed his grey eyes. He sat up so suddenly that Starrk was dislodged from his position between his legs. Before he could react, Shunsui had his hands in his hair, pulling him close until their noses touched.

"Don't ever lower yourself to that again," he said fiercely. "I would rather wait the rest of my life to have you than for you to do this just to repay whatever debt that you believe you owe me."

Starrk closed his eyes, sighing. "That is why I am doing this willingly," he said, brushing the back of his hands over Shunsui's face. "Trust me."

Shunsui's eyes remained narrowed for long moments, seemingly searching for something within Starrk's own grey-blue gaze. "Know that I want you, but only on your own terms," he said finally.

"This is on my own terms," Starrk confirmed.

He was subject once more to that piercing gaze before Shunsui sighed, nodding briefly. A soft kiss brushed over his forehead.

"Alright."

Starrk smiled, lopsided, before he slid down Shunsui's body again.

He closed his eyes as he opened his mouth, letting the physical evidence of Shunsui's want for him to slide down his throat. His hands splayed on thick, slightly furred thighs, moving upwards, nails scraping over the thin skin at the joints. When Shunsui gasped, when his hips thrusted up, Starrk let himself be engulfed entirely by the sound and sensations.

Despite the confidence of his speech, he still wasn't sure why he was doing this. It was just an irresistible urge, a desire that he couldn't resist; he wanted to give pleasure. But why? He couldn't rid himself of the thought that he owed Shunsui something for all that the Captain had done for him, because surely his presence wasn't enough. Surely there was something he could do for him, something that would balance the scales between them.

And, at this very moment, he couldn't think of anything else except to give pleasure in the most visceral and obvious way. The salt of Shunsui's sweat, the bitterness of his pre-come, the tremulous sound of his gasp and bitten-off moans… they were all just enough to assure him that he was worth at least a little of all that Shunsui had given to him.

He wasn't hard himself, but surely it couldn't be a matter of repaying a debt because he wasn't reminded of Aizen. No memories pressed at the back of his mind; no white rooms threatened to take over him entirely. There was only Shunsui's warmth and the solidity of his fingers in Starrk's hair.

It wasn't just a matter of scales, he told himself. He wanted to do this. But then again… had he wanted to give himself over to Aizen? He had never resisted, never used his power to stop the man who wanted to be god from taking all he wished from him. Perhaps he didn't because he couldn't… and wasn't that the greatest difference here? He knew, beyond all doubts, that he could stop at any time and Shunsui wouldn't press him. He would be disappointed, and confused, but he wouldn't force him.

Yet the thought of Shunsui's disappointment was nearly as crushing a weight upon his lungs as Aizen's.

His thoughts were tangling themselves into circles. Starrk squeezed his eyes shut, pulling his hand from Shunsui's skin to dig nails into his palm. The pain was a sharp spike in his mind, bright stars that chase away the threads, and he forced himself to focus on Shunsui, on the pleasure he was giving the other man.

When Shunsui came, it was with a low, rattling moan that surrounded Starrk and seeped into his ears, twining around his spine and nerves and making him shake. It was engraved deep within, this sound, in the same place as the heavy, bittersweet rush of Shunsui's come on his tongue.

He didn't resist when Shunsui tugged him up to face him, but he didn't open his eyes. He felt the weight of those eyes on him, felt the heat on Shunsui's cheeks as the other man laid his head on his shoulder. And he didn't flinch when Shunsui's hand brushed over his crotch.

But he did when Shunsui's entire body tensed.

"I'm sorry," the Captain murmured. "I'm so very, very sorry."

Starrk jerked, his eyes flying open despite himself. "Why?" he asked. His voice was hoarse. He swallowed hard. "You haven't… you haven't done anything you have to apologise for."

Shunsui barked a laugh, something cold rasping from the depths of his throat. "I'm apologising for what I haven't managed to do."

There was nothing Starrk could say to that. He could only stare, uncomprehending, because Shunsui had done so much for him, so what was he…

The Captain smiled at him, sorrow bright in his eyes. "One day," he whispered, his fingers stroking over Starrk's cheek. "One day I'll manage to convince you that everything that Aizen had said and done to you is wrong."

"Ah."

Starrk didn't ask what he meant; he already knew. And he couldn't help the instinctive shiver that went through his entire body at the thought that Shunsui was learning too; learning to pluck his thoughts right out of his mind.

Shunsui's hand stroked his hair, and Starrk followed the gentle tug to lay his head onto shoulder.

"One day," Shunsui repeated.

This was different too, Starrk realised. He felt safe. Maybe this was how it should be; just the feel of their bodies against each other, without wedge of scales and balances between them.

You're already starting to, he almost said, but swallowed back the words and held on tighter instead.

Surely Shunsui knew that too.

Notes: Uh, I did say that it'll take a long time to resolve trust issues, right? So…

Please don't kill me.