One Moment
Chapter 20: Unfolding and Untangling, Part 2

Characters/Pairings: Rukia, Ichigo, Shunsui, and Ukitake. Mentions of Shunsui/Starrk and Lilynette/Rukia.
Rating: PG
Words: ~8450
Chapter Summary: Rukia abuses some sense into Ichigo's head. Ukitake does spring cleaning on Shunsui's mind.
Notes: I'm so sorry for the radio silence on this end. I left the country for a week. I thought I would have time to post the chapter – hence the lack of warning – but I didn't. I'm really sorry. I will be on time for next week, which means the next chapter is in two days.

The seasons were the same between Soul Society and the Living World. In that small way, there was no difference between the world of the living and that of the dead.

Sitting on the rooftop of Karakura Clinic, swinging his legs, Ichigo let himself think about why it was that way. Was it because Soul Society instinctively mirrored itself to the Living World because of the influence of the souls who remembered there being different seasons? Or was it the other way around, with some sort of leakage from Soul Society influencing the seasons?

His science classes said that the seasons changed because of the interaction between Earth's atmosphere and its journey around the sun. That would make sense with Soul Society and the Living World, but there was Hueco Mundo too, and the moon there had never set, so what was up with that then?

He was deep in thought about how human science could untangle all the mysteries about the spiritual worlds the majority of humans didn't even know existed when he was kicked in the face.

No, that wasn't metaphorical. There really was suddenly a foot right in his face. He flailed, arms windmilling, and nearly fell off the roof.

"What the hell!"

"You look like you were thinking," a lofty voice answered him. "If you do it too much, you're going to break your brain."

Clinging onto the edge of the rooftop, Ichigo narrowed his eyes, glaring at the small girl standing with her hands on her hips. He hoisted himself back uipwards, landing on his feet. Immediately, he drove his elbow on top of her head.

"Why can't you say 'hello' like a normal person?" he whisper-shouted, trying to keep his voice down in case he woke the girls. Or worse, his old man.

Rukia punched his jaw. He stumbled backwards, this time managing to catch himself before he tumbled off the roof again.

"You don't say 'hello' like a normal person either," she pointed out.

They glared at each other for a long moment before Ichigo sighed. There was no way he could win this argument, especially when he wasn't even sure what they were arguing about in the first place. He rubbed his face before dropping back down to sit on the rooftop's edge.

It took Rukia less than five seconds to sit down next to him.

"Why are you here?" he asked.

"Visiting," she said, giving him non-answers like she always did. The only exception to this rule was when she decided to provide atrocious pictures of rabbits to accompany her answers.

He rolled his eyes. "You have a reason for visiting? Or are you just here to bother me?"

Rukia shrugged, her shoulder bumping against his.

"What were you thinking about, Ichigo?"

"The reason why the seasons in Soul Society correspond to those here while Hueco Mundo stays an eternal desert," he replied promptly.

She punched him in the face. Again.

"Okay," she said while he was still holding his nose, trying to make sure that it wasn't broken, "what were you trying to not think about that you're trying to figure out something so stupid?"

"What makes you think that I was trying to not think about anything?" he grumbled.

Rukia only gave him a withering look. Ichigo tried to glare at her, but she upped the wattage of the look until he was sure that he would actually start growing old. So he sighed, dropping his head between his knees. He tried to convince himself that he wasn't trying to avoid her eyes.

"I really screwed up, didn't I?" he said softly. "With Muramasa."

He was just going to leave it there, but Rukia nudged him at the side with a foot. "Keep talking," she ordered.

Shooting her a dirty look, which she returned with an unimpressed one, he sighed again. "He attacked you and sent Sode no Shirayuki after you just to get me into Soul Society. Then he was telling me that he... found me interesting," he hid a grimace at that particular memory, "and I forced my Hollow out and fought him..."

Hesitating, he looked at Rukia again. She tapped her fingers on her knee empathetically.

"I don't know why this is bothering me so much," he said. "It's just... I didn't do anything to help. Actually, all I did was to make him target you. I even helped him to free Kouga and I didn't even... I didn't even defeat him to make up for that."

"Ichigo."

"What?"

"Look at me."

It was most likely a trap, but Ichigo lifted his head up and turned towards her anyway.

She clocked him right across the face.

"Ow! What-"

Rukia grabbed him by the collar, pulling him close. Her eyes were narrowed, lips pressed into a line, and he stared at him, completely uncomprehending, as she fumed in silence at him.

"Why the hell are you angry?" he growled. If she found something objectionable about what he said, then she shouldn't have even asked him about it in the first place!

"You," she said slowly, dragging every word through gritted teeth, "are a complete, utter idiot."

That wasn't the first time Rukia had called him that. But it was the first time she looked at him like this, with frustration and exasperation wrapped up around a hard, burning core of anger.

"You don't have to repay anything to anyone for falling to their manipulations," she said in the same slow, weighted voice. "If you want to repay anyone, beating in someone's head isn't the way to do it. It's by getting smarter and making sure that you don't get caught in the same trap again."

Ichigo opened his mouth, but Rukia shook his collar hard, making the cloth smack against his neck. He shut up.

"Listen," she continued. "It's not your job to take out Muramasa. It's not your job to get rid of all the threats that come to Soul Society."

"I don't think that it's my job!" he protested immediately. His hands closed around hers, trying to make her let him go. "It's just that..."

"You think it's your duty," Rukia interrupted, practically steam-rolling over him. "You think that it's always up to you to save those around you, never mind what they are capable of. You think that you're the only person who should make sacrifices, who should get hurt. You want to wrap up every single person in bubble wrap to make sure that they are never hurt by anything."

He opened his mouth again. Her words wormed into him, tugging at the threads that made up the tapestry of his being, threatening to unravel him entirely.

She glared at him again. He closed it. It should be silly for him to fear what a girl half his size could do, but he learned long ago to not underestimate her. Or her punches.

When she spoke again, her voice was soft and almost strange in its gentleness.

"Why do you think it's always up to you, Ichigo?"

Once Rukia let go, Ichigo sank down back to the concrete ground. He looked away from her Sinking down back onto the concrete ground, he tipped his head back and stared at the skies lit up by streetlights.

"I don't know," he said. It was perfectly honest; he really didn't.

Her fist nudged his temple. It was such a light touch that he nearly fell off the roof again.

"Use that head of yours to try to figure it out," she sighed. "If you can figure out Aizen during that battle with him, then you can do it for yourself too."

Ichigo wanted to protest; wanted to tell her that he had never been much for self-reflection. He had always followed his instincts.

But following his instincts had essentially led him to aid the enemy. Not just with Muramasa, but with Aizen as well.

He rubbed his face hard. Then he dragged his hand through his hair.

The first thought he had was his mother. He lost her because he couldn't protect her, because she was trying to protect him, and Ichigo had read enough beginner's psychology to think that having to deal with something that traumatic when he was so young was enough to create some kind of psychosis in his head.

But he knew it wasn't true. Not really. If it was, then he would have never allowed Chad or Tatsuki to fight beside him. Or Rukia, for the matter. No, that was only the beginning; it was something else that made him this way.

What was it? What was it? Ichigo dug his fingers into his hair, messing it up even further in his frustration.

"My head hurts," he complained.

"That's what happens when you don't use it often," Rukia shot back. "Keep thinking."

He gave her a half-hearted glare. Which she ignored completely. Typical.

There was something prodding at the back of his mind. He tried to grab at it, but it skittered away from him like words always did when he wasn't in the midst of a battle. Swallowing another sigh, he dropped his head onto his knees.

Then he disconnected his brain from his mouth, and hooked the latter to his instincts instead.

"I guess..." he started. "I guess it's because I think everyone were waiting for me to take out Aizen on my own."

Rukia's eyes widened, but she didn't say a word. Ichigo was simultaneously angry and relieved by that: he wanted to be stopped, because he knew that if he continued, neither of them would like the answers he would give.

He took a deep breath and let all the words just tumble out of his mouth without knowing what he himself was going to say.

"But it started long before that, from the very beginning when you were first taken back by Byakuya and Renji. You see, sometimes I wondered... why is it that Geta-boushi and Yoruichi-san bothered to train me- train us? Why couldn't they just go to Soul Society and save you, given how powerful they are? Don't get me wrong, I wanted to be the one who saves you, but... but Rukia, I can't help but wonder, you know?"

She nodded.

"Then afterwards, in Soul Society... everyone else just kept losing. They were captured. I was the only one left free, and I had to save them as well as you. Then Renji begged me to save you and I... I guess I just started to think that it's up to me, you know? That no one else could do it. Especially when I met you and you basically told me that you weren't even going to try to save yourself."

Rukia was going to say something, but Ichigo shook his head up, forestalling her.

"Let me finish," he said. When she nodded slowly, he took a deep breath.

"There are other things too. Like when Grimmjow came and beat the shit out of everyone. Like when Inoue disappeared and jii-san refused to let us go and rescue her. Like when I was the one who reached Inoue first and fought Ulquiorra," he fought down a shiver at the thought, because he still had nightmares about letting go so completely and utterly.

In a softer voice, he continued, "Like when I had to watch while everyone was taken down by Aizen until... until I was the only one left to defeat him."

He rubbed his face hard, digging knuckles into his eyes. "After... after the battle, you know what Zangetsu-ossan told me? He said that... he said that he was really glad that Aizen didn't manage to break out of the Chrysalis stage; that Starrk's attack stunted his further evolution."

Geta-boushi had said something about Starrk having absorbed so much reiatsu from Aizen that the Hogyouku was too busy replenishing it to push his evolution further, especially since the combined attack from the Shinigami took so long for Aizen to counter when he didn't have Kyouka Suigetsu. Ichigo wasn't sure of the details; he hadn't listened to much of it.

Dropping his head back, he stared blankly upwards. "There is only one technique that could've defeated Aizen if he had evolved further. It's called Mugetsu and... and Zangetsu-ossan told me that... that I would have to meld with him and the Hollow both to be able to use it. And... if I use Mugetsu, I would lose all of my powers."

Turning his head, Ichigo gave Rukia a soft, wry smile. "I was willing to do it, you know."

Because no one else could've taken him down by then.

He knew Rukia had heard those words he left unspoken; could see it in the shocked understanding in her eyes. But he didn't regret thinking them; wouldn't have regret doing so because then he would have been protecting his precious people from a man who, despite his appearance, was more like a monster under the bed than any Hollow Ichigo had ever met. Even his own.

"If you've done that..." Rukia said, dipping her head until her hair covered her eyes. "What would happen to us, then?"

"Weren't you just saying that you all can do without me?" Ichigo asked, trying for humour. "You would've done fine."

Rukia shook her head hard. "That's not what I meant," she said. Her eyes were fierce when they finally met his, and Ichigo didn't stop her when she grabbed his collar and pulled him close.

"Do you know what it would've done to all of us if we lost you?"

"You wouldn't have lost me!" Ichigo protested immediately. "I wouldn't have died."

"No, you wouldn't," Rukia agreed. She stared at him for a moment longer before dropping her hands. "But Ichigo... if you've done that, we couldn't sit here to talk to each other.

"Because you wouldn't be able to see me anymore."

Huh? Ichigo blinked. "I don't get it."

This time, Rukia's punch floored him entirely. One second, he was sitting on the rooftop's edge; the other, he was lying on his back, half-hanging over the side, staring up blankly at the tiny girl who packed a hell of a punch.

"Rukia, what the hell-"

"You idiot!" she hissed, straddling his chest as she half-strangled him with her hands tight on his collar. "Friends don't just protect each other from harm. Friends talk to each other, laugh with each other, and they can see each other!"

Ichigo opened his mouth to tell her he knew that, and could she stop abusing him already? But Rukia glared at him, smacking his head against the ground.

"Look," Rukia said. "Do you ever think me, or Inoue, or Chad, or Renji, to be less of a friend because we don't constantly protect you from some big bad villain?"

He stared at her, uncomprehending.

"Answer me!"

"What-?" he flailed. "No! Of course not!"

"Then why do you think that you have to always be the one to protect us? Why don't you talk to us, ask us for help?"

"Because that would put you in danger!" Ichigo yelled, uncaring about waking up his family or, hell, the entire neighbourhood. "Because you're my friends and I'd rather be the one hurt than be the one watching you be hurt!"

"Do you think you're not our friend as well?" Rukia screamed back. "Do you think we like sitting back and just watching you get hurt over and over again without being able to do anything? Do you think we'll like knowing that you lost your powers because we couldn't protect you?!"

Ichigo froze.

"That's not..." he started, eyes wide. "That's not... I don't..."

"If you say that you don't need to be protected," Rukia hissed, "I will punch you into a coma."

He clicked his jaw shut.

They stared at each other for long minutes. The only sounds between them were that of their ragged breathing. Ichigo suddenly wished that someone, anyone, would yell at them for making such a racket in the middle of the night.

But there was only silence.

Finally, Rukia moved. She slid back down onto the floor, sighing – a shuddering sound – before drawing her knees up to her chest. She didn't look at him.

"I didn't know you feel that way," Ichigo tried.

"It's not just me," Rukia muttered, voice so soft that Ichigo had to scoot closer to hear her. "It's everyone. Renji, Sado, Inoue, and even Ishida..." she shook her head. "I know Sado and Inoue, at least, have been desperately training ever since the war ended to catch up to you so they can protect you. Or, at least, make sure you don't have to protect them again."

Ichigo opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

Rukia gave him a wry glance. "You're more powerful than any of us, there's no doubt about that," she shrugged. "But Ichigo... there are other things we can help with."

He couldn't help himself; he really couldn't.

"Like what?"

"Like making sure that you're not jerked around like a puppet by every threat that we come across," Rukia said flatly. She paused. "Or by Urahara or Kurotsuchi or Yamamoto-soutaichou... or by Nii-sama, even."

Ichigo made to protest, but she was steam-rolling over him. Again.

"You always charge into situations whenever you even think one of your friends is in danger, you know," Rukia said. "I've been thinking things through, and it's really obvious that Urahara knew you and have watched you enough to know that tendency of yours. That's why he gave me that gigai that stole my powers."

He must look like a fish by now. But he honestly didn't care, too caught up by what Rukia was saying.

"How many times have people told you something and get you all fired up thinking that one of your friends is being hurt?" she continued. "Muramasa wasn't the only one. Hell, he wasn't even the first."

Still frozen, still staring, Ichigo couldn't do anything as Rukia leaned over and knocked her fist against his temple.

"If you keep trying to protect us without letting us do the same, you're just going to end up landing all of us into even more trouble. Especially with how powerful you are now."

"Oh," Ichigo said.

So it was... so it was his-

"Don't start thinking that it's your fault that we're hurt, you idiot," Rukia rolled her eyes. "You're not the only one who has been manipulated, and it's not your fault that you're surrounded by unscrupulous bastards who play with people like girls with dolls."

His thoughts screeched into a halt.

She smacked him again. "Besides, that's not my point."

"Alright," Ichigo said softly. "What is your point?"

"You need to learn to trust us, you know?" she told him, a grin hinting at the corner of her mouth. "Stop charging into things and talk to us first."

Slowly, his hand came up, dragging through his hair. His world felt a little shaky. While he could blame the many punches she had landed on his head for the past hour or so they had been talking, Ichigo didn't think that was the case.

He drew his legs up, setting his chin on his knees as he looked at her. Despite what she had told him, he still couldn't help but think that it was his fault that his friends constantly found themselves in danger; that it was due to his lack that they came to any sort of harm.

But then again, Ichigo was used to thoughts like that. He spent years thinking that it was his fault that his mother died – not just because he couldn't save her, but also because he was the one who rushed towards that little girl spirit. There had been a time when he had hated his ability to see the dead, and tried to block it all out of his head. But that wasn't possible; his powers were as much a part of him as his orange hair.

Still... this wasn't the same. This was something he could change about himself. It wouldn't be easy – he had been reliant on his instincts for so long that doing anything else took a great deal of effort – but nothing had ever been easy in his life anyway.

He took a deep breath, lifting his head up to meet Rukia's eyes. She had been watching him, silent and patient.

"I'll try," he said. "I'll talk to you... or Chad, or Inoue," probably not Ishida, because the other boy would either laugh at him or die from a heart attack at the thought of being asked for help, "and I won't rush headlong into things."

Pausing, he gave her a wry smile. "I can't promise to not try to protect all of you, though."

Rukia rolled her eyes at him again, reaching out and punching him on the shoulder. "I don't expect you to," she said, droll. "It'll take more than one conversation to rid you of your natural stupidity."

"HEY!"

Although he far preferred the cherry for his Division, Shunsui couldn't help but admire the beauty of the Thirteen's grounds, littered as it was by plum blossoms. There was a starkness here in the bleach-white flowers with their hearts as red as blood, framed by leaves so green that they turned into gems under the sunlight. It was all so bright and Shunsui knew there were several people who would call it tasteless – Byakuya being one, with his tastes so noble-bred – but he liked the naturalness of it all, untamed by the hands of an army of gardeners.

A petal floated downwards, curling past his broad hand to land in his sake dish. Shunsui looked at it, taking in the the contrast of the paper-white with the colourless liquid before he sipped the alcohol from around the sides of the dish, chasing the subtle and elusive flower-flavour.

"It's a good omen, you know," Ukitake murmured. "Though, in terms of tradition, it should be tea, rather than sake."

His best friend was seated opposite him, leaning against the trunk of a tree that was broader and sturdier-looking than he was. Their legs were half-tangled beneath the woollen blanket they brought from Ukitake's office to keep out the last dregs of winter's chill.

"Ah," he grinned, the smile half-hidden beneath his straw hat. "But when have you take me to be a man of tradition, Ukitake?"

"Never," the other man retorted immediately. "Except when it serves you well as a tool."

Ukitake seemed to wish to continue, perhaps to tease him further, but a wisp of wind brushed over their skins. Its fingers seeped through their clothes even as it made the flowers danced around him. Ukitake shivered, his words lost in the cold, and Shunsui could nearly hear Katen Kyokotsu's laughter at the back of his mind.

She had always loved this time of the year.

Usually, at this point, Shunsui would smile and offer his kimono to his friend to help warm him further. Ukitake would refuse, and they would banter, the words distracting Shunsui from the sound of his sword's voice (voices) in his ear.

This time, he picked up the teapot and poured more tea into Ukitake's cup instead.

"Have more," he said. "It'll warm you."

The break from routine wasn't one that went unnoticed. Ukitake's brown eyes narrowed at him even as he picked up the cup, wrapping his fingers around the heated earthenware as he sipped.

"What troubles you today, Kyouraku?"

"What makes you think that there is anything troubling me?" he raised an eyebrow.

The only answer he received was a sceptical look, and Shunsui laughed. He tipped his head back, draining his sake and savouring the sweet-bitter warmth that slid down his throat.

"We are currently at an impasse," he started, soft and low. "Lives hang in the balance, and all we can do is wait."

Ukitake raised an eyebrow. "You doubt the wisdom of the Central Forty-Six?" he asked, irony twisting his smile, creating shadows at the sides of his mouth.

Of course the other Captain would know exactly what he was talking about, no matter the vagaries of his words. Shunsui returned the smile with the same darkness.

"I distrust their narrow-mindedness," he said. "I distrust that they, in all their wisdom, would realise the liberties that Yama-jii has taken with the judgements he had made so far, and lay down a opposing decision just to be contrary."

His friend leaned forward, picking up the jar of sake and pouring more for him. The white petal floated back on top, and Shunsui chased it with his lips for a momentary distraction.

"Do you believe that Genryuusai-sensei will not be able to persuade them of the reasons behind his decisions?"

Shunsui gave him a wry look. "I fear that he does not have enough conviction."

"The last Forty-Six had favoured objectivity far above any impassioned pleas," Ukitake pointed out, leaning even further back against the tree. "Genryuusai-sensei does not have nearly as strong a connection to Starrk-san and Lilynette-chan as you do, and that will serve his defence well."

Sputtering at the image of Yama-jii having the kind of connection that he had with Starrk, Shunsui banged on his own chest. "Ukitake, you-" he tried to say, but was overcome by another fit of coughing at alcohol burned his throat.

Ukitake was laughing, throwing his head back as he shook from the mirth. Shunsui gave him a half-hearted glare, kicking him gently beneath the blankets.

After a moment, his fellow Captain shook his head. He drew one leg up to his chest, resting his elbow on it and his head on his hand.

Shunsui looked into his eyes for a moment before he sighed.

"The Central Forty-Six have always been terrible at accepting creatures they have no name for," he said quietly, tipping his head up to stare at the plum blossoms above. "You know that well enough."

His friend nodded, amusement fleeing from his face. They both knew, and understood, the small-mindedness of their ruling council. A hundred years ago, when Aizen forced the first Shinigami-Hollow hybrids into being, the decision for execution was more than half motivated by the fear of the unknown. Shunsui had no doubts that the reason why Otoribashi, Hirako, and Mugurama were allowed to return as Captains were partly influenced by the name they had chosen for themselves; that of Visored.

When something had a name, it was known; it did not need to be feared as much as a nameless thing.

"Should we find a name for them then?" Ukitake asked.

"Weren't you the one who said that they need no more names than their own?"

Draining his tea, Ukitake shook his head. "Those words are for the Captains; for those who will have to see and interact with them on a daily basis," he said, eyes hidden beneath his hair as he poured another cup of tea. "There needs be another strategy when dealing with the Central Forty-Six, who will never meet them."

"What name shall we give them, then?" Shunsui asked, cocking his head to his side.

"Well," Ukitake chuckled. "I leave them up to you. You have always been better with words and language than I am."

Shunsui pouted. It was completely ignored for the sake of hot tea.

"Besides," his friend continued. "You probably already have something in mind, haven't you?"

Tipping his head back, Shunsui let himself fall onto the grass. He stared up towards the petals, idly tracing lines and curves between the red hearts to form a pattern, some sort of shape.

"I have been studying the Living World language that the Hollows' language are the most similar to," he said. The name of it was Spanish, and he couldn't help but wonder just why the Hollows had chosen that particular language out of so many, and if it was even a conscious choice at all.

Shaking his head to dislodge those thoughts, he lifted his eyes, meeting Ukitake's expectant gaze. "In that language, Visored is similar to visor, meaning the sight of the gun; while Arrancar means 'to uproot'. But I believe we should move beyond descriptions of their masks, so I'm thinking of..." he hummed under his breath. "Juntura, or even Alianza."

"What does either mean?"

"Juntura refers to a joint," he said, lips slowly curving up into a smile. "While Alianza represents a form of alliance, usually used between two different armies."

The light in Ukitake's eyes seemed to shift slightly, and Shunsui knew that his friend immediately understood the reasons behind those names. Still, they were accurate – after all, weren't Starrk and Lilynette the physical and symbolic proof of the joining between Hollow and Shinigami; that the traditional enemies were not as opposite as they once thought? Especially after the two of them managed to take a Shinigami's zanpaktou for their own.

"Alianza is probably better suited for Central Forty-Six's ears, for it will assure them that our acceptance of Starrk-san and Lilynette-chan is based upon their usefulness," Ukitake said.

Shunsui nodded. "Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer," he murmured.

"But Juntura is more fitting, and I believe that Starrk-san and Lilynette-chan will like it better as well," Ukitake continued, folding his hands as he leaned back against the tree again.

He glanced towards Shunsui.

"Should we ask them which they prefer?"

"I already know their responses," Shunsui shook his head. "Lilynette-chan will choose Juntura, simply because she likes the sound of it better, and she will order us to completely disregard the possible reactions of the Central Forty-Six."

"In far less polite terms," Ukitake added, lips twitching.

Shunsui nodded, a grin tugging on his own lips in reply. "While Starrk... he will tell us to choose whichever that we think best, and avoid making a decision at all. However, his discomfort regarding Alianza will be obvious."

"The decision should be clear, but..." Ukitake trailed off.

But it isn't, Shunsui completed for him. Politics usually wasn't; even if the name applied only to Starrk and Lilynette – and thus they should be the one to decide – the purpose of the name itself was to reassure the Central Forty-Six, and what use was it if it only made the close-minded ruling council fear them and all they represented even more?

Sometimes Shunsui wished for the days when he was nothing more than a seated officer; when he could foist off politics to his Captain and wash his hands off the entire matter. But then again, being a seated officer was entirely too boring, so much so that he couldn't even imagine being one for hundreds of years.

Besides, it had been so long since he was less than a Lieutenant that he could barely remember it.

Ukitake shook his head.

"I wish that we have the leisure to wait for Starrk-san and Lilynette-chan to decide so that we're not making the decision for them," he said, dragging a hand through white strands. "But we have a meeting with Genryuusai-sensei soon, and we need the time to prepare our argument."

"We can ask them now," Shunsui offered.

His friend gave him a wry look. "I'll take that as a moment of folly and refuse to be insulted."

Opening his eyes as wide as they could go, Shunsui tried for an innocent look. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said.

Ukitake snorted. "That doesn't work on me and never has," he said, and Shunsui knew that it was only ingrained politeness that stopped his friend from rolling his eyes. "Come off it, Kyouraku. There is something else bothering you, something so large that you are now using politics to distract yourself."

Shunsui chuckled. He lowered his eyes, tugging his straw hat down until it half-covered his face.

"So what is it?" Ukitake continued, completely merciless.

After a pause, at which Shunsui didn't say a word, Ukitake came over, flicking the hat to the side. His brown eyes bored into Shunsui's grey ones, narrowed with concern.

"It has something to do with Starrk-san, doesn't it?"

Shunsui looked away, staring blankly up to the plum blossoms. The flowers were so numerous that they blocked out the skies.

"Usually, when someone refuses to speak, it means that they don't want to talk about it," he said finally.

"Not between us," Ukitake snorted. "Your refusals to speak are simply invitations for me to pry your secret thoughts out of you until they are laid bare at my feet."

Closing his eyes, Shunsui swung his arm over his face. He couldn't help a soft laugh escaping him, because Ukitake was right. The two of them knew each other too well for any form of avoidance tactics to work, after all.

And Shunsui had pried into Ukitake's business so much that he couldn't even back away without being called a hypocrite.

So he took a deep breath. He did not open his eyes.

"Three days ago, on the grounds of the Eighth," he began, "Starrk spoke to me about debt."

Once he started, he could not stop. The entire tale spilled out of him like water from a cracked glass. Slowly, before the pressure grew too much and the entire container shattered, spilling liquid and shards everywhere. He laid himself bare, the tale perfectly clear as he told his best friend his every word and thought as well as the unvarnished version of Starrk's actions.

Shunsui had always been a good storyteller. And though his memory was spotted with grey moments where it faded from lack of interest, it was absolutely perfect when it came to events that meant a great deal to him.

He tried to keep the tale objective, but he couldn't help the sharp edges slipping out, all the shards of his frustration and confusion pressing into his throat with every word. He understood, he truly did, but he was at a complete loss.

Hadn't he done everything right?

When the whole thing wound to a close, he sat up, resting his head upon his folded knees. Ukitake's hand was warm and reassuring on his hair.

"It's not your fault," his friend said, low and soft. "You gave him all you had and told him the truth. But he simply did not understand what it was that he held in his hands."

Taking a ragged breath, Shunsui poured himself another cup of sake and drained it.

"Do you think I haven't realised that?" he asked, giving Ukitake a crooked smile to blunt the edge of his words. "But Ukitake, I simply don't know how to solve it."

He shook his head hard when his friend made to speak. The words were threatening once more at the base of his throat; the floodgates had been opened, and he could not stop himself from half-drowning beneath the waters.

"Everything that I am is working against me," he said, dragging his hand through his hair. "From the word games I love to play with him, to the way I twist things to suit my purposes, and even to my instinctive need to help him in any way I can so that he will stay by my side..."

Biting his lip, he dropped his head down. "Sometimes I wonder if he looks at me and sees Aizen instead."

Ukitake grabbed him by the shoulder, forcing him to turn around. Shunsui's eyes widened, staring blankly forward.

"He calls you by your given name," Ukitake said, voice fierce. "And he allows you to use his name without an honorific. Are those not signs of the trust he holds in you?"

"If he trusts me," Shunsui said slowly, "then why does not see that I am not trying to buy him with my deeds? Why does he not see that though I want him so badly that my very soul aches, I'm not willing to take what he doesn't wish to give? Why does he still speak of debt?"

Even though the man was still alive, even though he was locked away in a place where he could not reach anyone, Aizen's ghost still lingered between him and Starrk. He was still there, a leering spectre that took in Shunsui's words and actions and offered them, distorted and twisted, to Starrk's eyes and ears.

And Shunsui honestly had no more ideas how to exorcise him. He had pushed past his own shields to trust Starrk; had wormed himself into the other man's defences to gain his trust. And yet, despite all of that, it still wasn't enough.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he almost missed Ukitake's words.

"Because he knew nothing else but lies," Ukitake was saying slowly. "You need to show him the truth."

Shunsui blinked. He took another breath, the air piercing against his throat with how hard he sucked it in. He steadied his hands.

"What?"

"Think," Ukitake urged him. "Push aside your frustrations, your hurt, and everything else. Your mind is sharper than mine, so look at all that you know about him and think, Shunsui."

He merely stared.

"I cannot give you the solution because I do not know Starrk-san as well as you do," Ukitake said, and there was an edge of frustration to his voice now. "You need to figure this out yourself, Kyouraku."

Shunsui squeezed his eyes shut, dropping his head back onto his knees. The pieces were all in his hands, scattered and blank, without any hint as to the full picture they were supposed to make... He took a deep breath, ridding himself of the fog of panic that had settled upon him that very moment Starrk's hands had drifted to his hips, the fog that had trapped him every since.

After long moments of silence in which he saw nothing but darkness, he tipped his head back and laughed.

Because the solution was so clear and obvious all along, and he didn't know how he had missed it the first time.

"Words," he said, forcing his tongue to work even as his shoulders shook with bitter mirth. "That's the problem. Words."

"You'll have to explain more than that," Ukitake said wryly. "A thousand years unfortunately does not give me the ability to read your mind, Kyouraku."

Shunsui glanced at his friend, grinning because he genuinely did not understand how he had not realised this long ago.

"All I have done for him so far are based on words," he said. "I helped win his freedom with words. I showed him my interest in him through words. I told him my desires through words. I tried to confess my future fidelity through those damned things as well."

He chuckled again, helplessly. "And yet what Starrk knew," truly knew with all the confidence implied in that term, "was in what he experienced for himself. All that Aizen had given him are words as well; promises that he, in the end, shattered entirely, leaving only wounds in his wake."

What a fool he was, to think that he had done all that he could to make Starrk trust him. Perhaps he had done some things; perhaps he had shown Starrk that what Aizen had told him about the concepts that held the world – held humanity – together were all false. But weren't those through words as well? And second-hand words, written by other hands and dumped on Starrk in the form of books and reports from Shunsui's subordinates.

"I have to show him," he continued softly, tipping his head back to stare up at the bright flowers and leaves again. It was such a beautiful day.

Turning towards Ukitake, he quirked a smile. This time, it was without the hint of self-deprecation and mockery.

"Any suggestions on that front?"

Ukitake gave him a flat look. "All that you've promised him will take years before they can be fulfilled," he pointed out a little unnecessarily. "But I don't think that's the answer you're looking for."

"It's not," Shunsui said.

"When have you become so impatient?" Ukitake raised an eyebrow.

Shunsui chuckled. "The long years I have lived have simply made my desire burn brighter, so much that I'm nearly blinded whenever I close my eyes."

His friend kicked him again, rolling his eyes.

"You try having someone who is essentially all that you're looking for in the past thousand years right in front of you and not being able to have him," Shunsui huffed, nearly pouting again.

There was a long silence from Ukitake's end. Shunsui glanced at him, blinking at the shock written all over his friend's face.

"Ukitake?" he prompted.

Slowly, Ukitake shook his head. "Well," he said finally. "I don't think that your parents would be particularly pleased at having... well, a former Hollow for a son-in-law. I think the elders might just have a fit."

Shunsui waved a hand dismissively. "How much do you think I care about their opinions?"

"Around the same amount you care about traditions," Ukitake shot back wryly.

Suddenly, Shunsui had an idea. He whirled around to his friend, his lips curving up entirely into a grin. "Do you think Starrk will be convinced of my intentions if I bring him back to meet my parents? And the elders?"

Ukitake stared at him for another long minute before he burst out laughing. "Only if you want to scare him off completely!"

"Do you think he will be so easily intimidated?"

"Shunsui!" Ukitake yelped, smacking him on the shoulder. "You're bringing someone who has only the briefest knowledge about Soul Society into the highest echelons of Seireitei. It'll be an unmitigated disaster and he'll definitely hate you for it."

"Why?" Shunsui blinked. "There is really nothing objectionable about his manners."

"For usual society, sure," Ukitake retorted, tart. "But would he know the first dish to start with in a kaiseki meal? Does he know the exact level to bow to each member according to their age or position, or even the various forms of keigo to use?"

"Ukitake," Shunsui drawled, his lips twitching. "Not even I know that."

That earned him another smack, right across the back of his head. "You do," Ukitake said, crossing his arms. "Even if you have convinced yourself that you have forgotten all of it entirely, you do, Kyouraku."

"Look," Shunsui said, trying for earnestness this time. "I would tell him beforehand that I frankly do not care about any of those finicky manners that my family care about, that I'm bringing him to see my family to show him that I am serious about my interest being permanent. That would solve it, wouldn't it?"

Ukitake rolled his eyes. "Do you think he would remember that amidst the humiliations that your family would surely pile upon him?"

"They wouldn't dare," Shunsui scowled.

"But they would," Ukitake told him. "Even if they dare not speak to him with rudeness with you there, they would behave in such a way that it would be absolutely clear to Starrk-san that they think him no better than the dirt between their toes. Have you forgotten just how observant he is?"

He sighed. Then, in a much softer tone: "Have you forgotten how they treated me?"

Shunsui's shoulders dropped. "Of course I do," he said, his lips pressed into a line.

His friendship with Ukitake had always been one of the biggest rifts between him and his family. Not the first, of course – Shunsui had never fitted well amongst them, because he simply never cared about power and bloodline the way they did. He had brought Ukitake home, wishing to show his friend the beauty of the Kyouraku estate, and his family had taken one look at Ukitake, taking in his name and his sickness, and told Shunsui in all seriousness that he should break off his friendship with the other boy because he simply wasn't 'worth the time of one of the Kyouraku clan's blood.'

"Have I told you how much I hate my family?" he asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Not in recent memory, no," Ukitake chuckled in reply.

Right, he hadn't spoken about them for at least a decade by now. He hadn't visited the estate for even longer; not since that time fifteen or so years ago when he had created such chaos during the yearly family meeting that he was no longer required to attend.

"So it's a bad idea to bring Starrk to them then," he said. He really couldn't help the overwrought mournful tone that slipped into his words.

"I wouldn't say that," Ukitake said.

Shunsui blinked, his head shooting upwards. "What?"

"It would be a good idea after a year or two, or even a decade or two," Ukitake shrugged. "When he is sure of his position in your heart, and is certain of himself enough to dismiss their words."

A sly smile curved up his lips. "It would be a beautiful opportunity to piss your family off."

Surprised – not just by the suggestion but also by that Ukitake just swore – Shunsui barked a laugh. "I suppose, yes," he grinned.

Then he sagged again. "But first I need to bring him to the point where he is sure," he grumbled. "And if I can't bring him to my family to do so, then I'm out of ideas."

Ukitake hummed. He leaned away from Shunsui, flopping down onto the grass on his stomach and kicking his legs up into the air. Petals flew up, landing on his haori and hair, the red hearts of the blossoms contrasting strikingly against the expanse of white.

Shunsui plucked a few and ran the waxy surfaces over his fingers while he waited. He resisted the childish urge to start a game of 'he loves me, he loves me not'.

"Why don't you bring him to Rukongai?" Ukitake said suddenly.

"Eh?"

"He hasn't been out of Seireitei ever since he came to Soul Society, right?" his friend said, his eyes piercing on Kyouraku. "So bring him outside."

Shunsui blinked.

"Besides," Ukitake continued, propping his head up on a hand. "How long has it been since you dated?"

That was... Shunsui leaned in. He placed a gentle hand on Ukitake's head, catching brown eyes with his own. He did his utmost to make sure that his expression was as serious as it could be.

"I think you're going senile in your old age, Jyuushirou," he smirked. "Have you forgotten that the two of us in fact pre-datedating, or even courtship?"

Ukitake rolled his eyes, but Shunsui wasn't finished.

"How much time have you been spending with with Rukia-chan?" he asked, frowning. "Or Ichigo-kun, for the matter, if you are asking me this?"

Swatting at his hand, Ukitake sat up, huffing. "Fine then," he waved a hand, turning away. "Ignore my suggestion. I shall no longer attempt to help you."

They turned away from each other. Somehow, their eyes managed to find each other, and Shunsui did not allow his mouth to twitch. He was simply waiting.

Eventually, Ukitake broke, and he started chuckling. Shunsui's control over himself snapped at the same time, and he nudged his friend hard in the ribs as he doubled over.

"In all seriousness," Ukitake said, the gravity of his words completely lost because he was still snickering like a boy. Shunsui nudged him again, and he cleared his throat before giving Shunsui a stern glance.

"I do think that bringing him out to Rukongai would be a good idea," he said.

Shunsui took a deep breath, gathering all of his mirth and stuffing it deep within him. He cackled just once more before he calmed.

"So do I," he smiled. "I just can't help teasing you when you say something as ridiculous as that."

"Is it really ridiculous?" Ukitake arched an eyebrow, looking imperious. "Would an outing like that not classify as a date?"

"Not for the purpose I have for it," Shunsui shook his head. "It's more of a... hm, trust exercise?"

"Oh?"

"I told him that I trust him," he explained, shrugging. "Now I'm showing it to him by bringing him out amongst plus souls that he can destroy without a thought."

He gave Ukitake a wry smile in return for the sharp look his friend gave him.

"That's not really what I'm planning, but it's how he will see it."

"What is it that you are planning, then?"

"Exactly what you're thinking of when you suggesting it," he spread out his hands. "I'll show him Rukongai. I'll show him the lives of the plus souls that populate most of Soul Society. I'll bring him to the shops and stores and show him all that humans are capable of making. I'll even bring him to the quaint little workshops to show him how things are made."

Ukitake raised an eyebrow. "One of the First Districts, then?"

Shunsui nodded. "I'm thinking of Junrinan."

"Where Hitsugaya-kun and Hinamori-fukutaichou are from..." Ukitake murmured, tapping his lip. "It'll be a good place to start. The plus souls there are used to feeling the weight of Shinigami reiatsu."

"That's part of why I chose it," Shunsui said. "The other reason is that it is prettier than the other three First Districts, especially at this time of the year."

The Third District of West Rukongai, Hokutan, was the most beautiful in of the upper-level districts when autumn was turning into winter, because it had high mountains planted full of maple and gingko trees. Shunsui truly regretted not bringing Starrk there at the time.

But then again, the other man wasn't allowed out of Seireitei during that particular period. Shunsui would've broken the rules without thought, but Starrk didn't seem to want to leave either.

"When will you be asking him?" Ukitake asked, jerking him out of his thoughts.

Shunsui blinked, turning to his friend. "Why do you want to know?"

"I need to prepare your excuses in case Genryuusai-sensei or the Central Forty-Six decide that you're overstepping your boundaries," Ukitake told him.

Slowly, Shunsui smiled. He reached out, squeezing Ukitake's shoulder. "Thank you," he said softly.

Ukitake waved his gratitude away like he always did. "So?"

"Next week, most likely," Shunsui shrugged. "It'll have to be soon, so that we do not miss the flowers."

"If he agrees," Ukitake said, something that was almost a warning.

Shunsui laughed. "If he agrees."

He turned his head up to look at the plum blossoms again. There were more than one reason for his haste: the Central Forty-Six might overturn Yama-jii's decision and take Starrk's current freedom away, for one thing.

For another... the last memories he had made under the pink-white blossoms were heavy and dark. And he wanted something better, sweeter, to replace it.

Notes: While I speak four languages, Spanish is unfortunately not one of them. So I took the Spanish from the Internet. If any of it is wrong, please tell me so I can fix it. Before you ask, no, English isn't my first language. It might as well be, given how much I use it in comparison to the other three, but it isn't.

Also, I'm rather worried for Ichigo's characterisation here. I... don't usually write him, and I hope that he's still okay/IC!

Edit (28 Dec 2014): I changed 'Alistarse' to 'Alianza' based upon the correction of hellbeast on AO3.