He bled into every aspect of her life.
Over the decades, Kyouraku had infiltrated every corner of her life without her knowledge or permission. However, in the past two weeks, their relationship has taken a new, yet to be defined, form. Their boundaries have become liquid and constantly shifting.
Unlike the weeks that followed That First Night, he remained present in their relationship. He still skipped work, and she chased him down. She still worked too much, and he tried to get her to take breaks. He still tried to steal kisses, and she rebuffed him with a well-placed fan or book.
The games and charades, however, had taken a new shape. She would allow him to convince her of the occasional picnics with friends on weekends; she began to greet his unannounced visits to her home with tea instead of kido. On peaceful evenings when he convinced her to work over dinner, she would inevitably find herself on his porch, leaning into his side, as they scheduled division affairs together.
While they still had rules and lines at work, their new games seemed to infiltrate their everyday lives, unwittingly bringing them closer than before and sneakily breaking through their masks of professionalism.
In the past, his reiatsu was always open unless he was actively hiding, and she could always pull at his soul. Now, however, his presence would always openly linger at the peripheries of her soul — a feather's light touch that ebbed and flowed throughout the day. He would still conceal himself and hide from her; however, over the past few weeks, he'd grown lax with his control.
On warm afternoons, when she was certain he was napping or basking in the sun, she would feel his reiatsu gently brush against her spirit. During those moments, he was easily traceable, and she knew she should track him down, reprimand him, and drag him to the office. However, the feeling of his peace spreading through her body was quickly becoming a liability to her self-control. In the face of that addicting feeling, she couldn't help but return the contact and coax him to sleep.
Hours later she would feel his reiatsu stretch against hers as he slowly awoke from his afternoon nap. It felt like the sunrise on a cold winter night — bright against a cloudless sky. She basked in his warmth for those brief moments and could not pull herself away.
Her lack of self-control also extended to other aspects of their relationship.
He would lean over her chair in the office as she explained the paperwork and trace circles on her shoulder with his thumbs. When he looked particularly rumpled, she would adjust his haori in exasperation, and he would return the gesture, brushing errant strands of hair back in place. The most alarming offense was when, a week ago, he leaned down to kiss her cheek in greeting as she rushed past him out of the office, and rather than threaten him with kido, she tilted her head and returned the chaste contact without any retribution. At the moment, she would pay no mind to the touches; only later would she realize the compromising position they'd put themselves into.
Luckily, their slipups happened when they were alone.
Most of the time.
It seemed that her tenuous control over her reiatsu was slipping by the day.
During a particularly excruciating SWA meeting, she reached a point where she'd rather deal with the Kido Corps than the latest SWA scheme.
The women discussed the merits of yet another beach-themed calendar featuring seated officers in limited clothing. A tried and tested fundraising method but a logistic nightmare.
Looking out the window, she could not help but want to be outside on a nice spring day. It was warm enough under the sun that reading outside would be pleasant. Try as she might, her mind drifted absentmindedly to Kyouraku. He would surely be dodging work, likely sleeping under a tree or at the thirteenth. It seemed impossible not to wonder which grassy hill he would have chosen to nap on.
"Nanao? What do you think?"
She startled, caught in a rare moment of distraction.
"Pay attention," pouted Matsumoto, "this is serious business."
She sighed and composed herself. "You know I don't like this idea — I think there are better ways of fundraising."
Matsumoto grinned. "You only say that because Kyouraku Taicho always makes you go on a date with him in exchange for being the centerfold."
She glared, "It's far too much work to coordinate the schedules of all the participants."
"Don't lie; you know you love it."
"I, in fact, do not — it's inappropriate, and he's unmanageable for at least a week."
He was; the sheer excitement had him merrily dodging any and all work in the name of setting up the perfect date. Begrudgingly, she had to admit that he always did a fantastic job; his dates were, in fact, always enjoyable.
"Sure, sure," Matsumoto went on, "You will probably have to agree to a sit-down restaurant date, given how elaborate this year's centerfold is this year."
She was about to argue when she felt a spark against her spirit and the spiritual pressure in the vicinity shift in a way that indicated his imminent arrival.
As predicted, Kyouraku appeared to retrieve her in moments, claiming there was a paperwork emergency that only she could attend to.
Secluded in the privacy of their shared office, she scolded him, "You need to stop doing that, sir. This is the second time you've pulled me out of a meeting this week. Rangiku-san is starting to get suspicious."
"Ah. But! My darling, Nanao-chan, I'm not doing anything. You're the one who can't keep away from me." He tugged at her reiatsu and laughed. "I'll always come rescue you when you call for me." While his grin was filled with mirth, his eyes betrayed his words' seriousness. Of course, he would come.
She sighed and pulled back.
Nonetheless, he had trapped himself. "Now that I have you here, Tiacho, there is much paperwork to be done."
Putting his hands up, he caved, "Alright. You caught me."
Nanao hated to admit it, but her Tiacho's presence in the office had done wonders for her mood, even if he had not attempted to help with paperwork. His presence alone seemed more than enough to lift her spirits. She wished that were not the case, but it seemed beyond her control. Her control started to slip after the night he returned from his mission in the real world. Seeing him wounded was always a shock. She'd always taken his power and long life for granted, always assuming harm was beyond him. Finding him in his home with bloody bandages had set her more on edge than she'd like to admit.
"Nanao-chan, I can hear you thinking from here," he said without looking up from his hat.
Not looking up from her forms, she was swift in her reprimand, "someone has to think about the budget, sir."
He sat up, leaning on his elbows. "I do think about many things," he said petulantly. "Think about my lovely Nanao-chan and our never-ending love. I think about all the plans I have for us. I think about your lovely, luscious —"
" — That's quite enough, Taicho."
"I also think about the budget," he chuckled. "You should relax more and help me spend it."
Finally looking up, she glared at him and chastised, "If only you put as much energy into calculating the budget, I would have time to relax."
"You could just spend time with me, regardless of paperwork," his tone was light and playful, but his eyes held an intensity that made her want to look away.
"Again, if I didn't have so much paperwork, that could be possible."
"Fine," he said.
"Fine?"
"Fine — same wager as last time: I'll do the paperwork in exchange for you spending time with me."
She just stared at him. "That's a steep wager on your part."
"But not on yours?" He grinned wolfishly. "So, you do want to spend time with me."
"That's not what I said," she said, adjusting her glasses. It's only that—" She pointed to a pile of papers in her inbox. "That is your paperwork."
"Oh." the pile was at least thirty papers high. However, it seemed he'd made up his mind. "No matter, I'll do it."
He winced as he stood, clearly still feeling the effects of his wounds.
"Be careful!"
"It's fine; it barely even hurts anymore."
"You're lying, Taicho."
"My sweet and loving Nanao-chan knows her Taicho so well," he crooned and grabbed paperwork from her inbox.
"No, sir, and don't call me that." She tried to suppress a blush but knew she had failed miserably when his grin only widened.
He grabbed the paperwork and made a show of waking up at his desk and settling down.
Nanao was surprised when an hour passed, and he was still diligently working away, assuming he was still doing paperwork. Far too curious, she looked over to see that he was, in fact, diligently working away on forms.
"I'm keeping my end of the bargain, Nanao-chan. You just worry about finishing yours in time for our outing."
"Outing? I never agreed to an outing, sir." She wondered how she could get out of this bargain. She hadn't said yes, but she hadn't exactly said no. An outing could be a dangerous step forward on the knife-edge tight rope they were balancing precariously on.
"You promised you'd spend time with me, and that time will be spent outside the office." He said, finally looking up.
It wasn't even a half hour later when he handed her the completed paperwork. "Done." He grinned.
"That was … efficient," she said, browsing through the forms.
She felt him before he saw her, his reiatsu brushing at the periphery of her consciousness. She looked up, only to find him far closer than she expected, leaning against her desk and chair.
He moved closer to her, only stopping when he was a hair's breadth away, "For you, anything."
"Tiacho, you shouldn't say things like that," Nanao admonished, pushing him back.
"I love it when my precious Nanao-chan gets all flustered," he said, moving to stand. His hiss of pain pulled her away from her next admonishment.
"Let me see," she scolded, returning to her usual sternness.
"See what, sweetness?" His smile turned goofy, but his eyes remained strained.
"You know what I'm talking about, sir — and don't call me that," she scolded and stood up.
"Truly," he pushed back, "There's no need."
Nanao stood up and, grasping his arm, directed him to sit on the couch. "That's not what I think."
"Really, it's fine." He batted her hands away.
"Let me see," she pulled at his uniform.
"Nanao-chan, so naughty," he laughed.
"Hush!" She opened his uniform and gasped when she saw his blood-stained bandages. "Tiacho!" She scolded.
"Yes, darling?" He feigned innocence.
"You need to take care of yourself, sir."
He sighed, finally breaking character and looking at her seriously, and said, "I didn't even really notice."
"I'll heal it."
"You don't have to."
"No." she got at eye level with the wound and lowered her voice. "But I want to."
Carefully, she removed the blood-soaked bandages and pressed her hand to the reopened gash along his side. She cast an analgesic kido when she felt him tense under her healing one, "Sorry."
"It's okay,"
She opted for silence as she watched his flesh mend together. Within minutes, the wound was mended and well on its way to healing.
Pulling back, Nanao looked up. His face was relaxed and serene. She reached out to press her hand against his cheek, and, smiling, he turned his head to kiss her palm. "Thank you, sweetheart."
She stood and ran her fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes and leaned forward to press his cheek against her stomach. He looked far too serine for her pull away, so, against her better judgment, Nanao found herself carting her fingers through his hair. They shouldn't be doing this at the office. In fact, they shouldn't be doing this at all. But, when he relaxed further against her, she could not help but smile.
Finally, he lifted his head and looked up, "Thank you, Nanao-chan."
"Why didn't you tell me or come to me?" She smoothed back his hair. "If you were hurting this badly?"
He leaned into her hand. "My Nanao-chan is so good to her taicho."
She backed away, making her way to her desk as he rearranged his clothes.
Only when she heard him finished redressing did she address him, "If you are not going to work, you should go nap or bother Tiacho Ukitake?"
"Yes, dear."
She sat down to work and, without looking up her paperwork, addressed him, "Come to me," she spoke firmly. "When you need help, please come to me?"
She looked up just in time to see his smile widen. "Yes, dear."
She rolled her eyes and turned her gaze back down to a particularly involved form as he quietly gathered his things. Ready to leave, he broke the silence casually, "I'll be headed out. Do you have the usual SWA meeting this evening?"
"No," she said absentmindedly.
She faintly registered him chuckling. "Let's have dinner — I'll cook?"
"Sure, sure," she said, flipping through files.
"Lovely," he said, and out of her periphery, vaguely caught him moving closer. "Darling?" he asked innocently.
"What?" she asked, growing irritated at the disruptions.
Kyouraku was mere millimeters away, leaning down and inclining his face towards hers. Without thought, she tipped her head and met his lips in a quick kiss. He rightened himself without a word and left the office in a flurry of pink.
"I'll be home at seven!" she called after him.
"I'll be waiting, sweetheart!" he responded from the hallway.
"Taicho!" Nanao was halfway to reprimanding him but was rendered speechless when she finally processed their interaction. Without any thought of consequences, she kissed her Taicho in the office as if it were an everyday occurrence. No matter how chaste it was, kissing her Taicho at the office crossed cleanly drawn lines. Lines she used to believe were immovable. Let alone what she'd said about home. What she meant by home, let alone whose home she was referring to, was not something she had time to unpack.
Damn, that probably gave the secretary pool at least two months' worth of gossip fodder.