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The Art of the Non-Relationship	By : crunchysalad Category: Bleach > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 2808 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or its characters. I am not making any money from this piece of fiction.

Chapter List
- 1-The Art of the Non-Relationship
- 1
Summary: After the Winter War, Kensei returns to Soul Society and resumes his position. Shuhei finds the experience awkward as his new captain is nothing like he imagined; at the same time, his unrequited feelings for occasional partner-in-bed Renji continue to go unanswered. Eventually he realizes that he must change his perspective on both men.
Pairings: Renji/Shuhei, Kensei/Shuhei
Rating: NC-17 for explicit sexual activity
Warning: boring relationship-y stuff ahead

The Art of the Non-Relationship
Shinigami Academy, East Dormitories
It didn't seem real. It didn't seem like it had actually happened. Just a regular field lesson, but now Kanisawa was dead. Aoga was dead. Shuhei was supposed to be dead, but somehow he wasn't. And he still hadn't cried about, still hadn't felt anything about it really. He had seen some of his closest friends die and he still couldn't wrap his head about it, like it was a movie or a bad dream, like any moment one of them would run through the dormitory hallway, knock on his door, and stick their heads in before asking to borrow his notes from class.
Shuhei turned towards his mirror. It was dark-he hadn't remembered to turn on the lights when he had gotten back-but he could still see the pale, morose expression that stared back at him. There were three jagged red lines digging valleys up and down his face. They looked shiny and raw and as though they would break apart at any moment, though the medical team had told him that they would heal into dark, thin lines. As though he cared. As though it were important. Kanisawa and Aoga were dead, and he was the asshole who couldn't even shed a tear for them.
There was a knock on his door. Shuhei couldn't even bring himself to lift his head up.
"Come in," he said, before taking a listless seat on the edge of his bed.
The door opened. A rectangle of light crept into his darkened room before the silhouette of a man followed. The man stepped forward and the door closed behind him. The first-year from before; one of the trio that had come back to help Shuhei, right before Aizen and Gin had come to save them all.
"Hisagi-sempai," he said, at first, before not saying anything at all. He looked horrible. Sallow skin, limp shoulder-length hair that was out of its previous ponytail, an expression on his face that said he had been thinking over things entirely too much. He stared down at the floor, legs apart, hands behind him, and fidgeted. Eventually he seemed to figure out what he wanted to say, why he had come here. "The medical division told us you were released. We thought we should come see how you were doing."
Shuhei's hand reached up to the right side of his face as though by instinct. "And the others?"
"They'll probably show up at some point."
Shuhei wasn't sure how he felt about that, so he settled for nodding in response. "Thanks. Sorry, I didn't catch your name before."
"Abarai. Abarai Renji."
A silence fell between them as Shuhei stared at the wall behind Renji and Renji stared at the floor. Shuhei knew that he should make conversation. Maybe show more gratitude for Renji's concern, or inquire as to Renji's well-being, but he really couldn't bring himself to be the good sempai right now. It was Renji that broke the silence.
"So. . . how are you doing? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Shuhei replied, not sure if he believed it. He was as fine as could be expected, he thought.
Renji took a few steps towards his bed and sat down beside him. Well, he guessed that Renji wasn't leaving soon. Renji was probably affected by the hollow attack as well. Shuhei really should ask about it. He finally did so several moments later, after the silence had grown so deep he felt as though he would fall into it.
"How are you?" he asked.
"Not too good," Renji admitted. So he had wanted to talk about it after all, judging from how quickly he answered."I mean, I've seen some pretty bad stuff in Inuzari, but nothing like that. They were only a few yards from me. . . only a few yards, and out of nowhere, that thing. . . to just slice through a person like it was nothing. . ."
"Stop," Shuhei interrupted, the word strangely loud in the small dorm. When he spoke next it was softer, quieter. "Just. . . stop."
Renji nodded. At the very least, he seemed to understand. "It's just that it's strange. One minute they're there and the next minute they're not. They were shinigami just like us, laughing and talking. And in a blink of an eye they're gone forever."
They were two of my best friends, Shuhei thought, and all of the sudden all the emotions he hadn't been feeling hit him like a tsunami. His shoulders crumpled into themselves as his hands came up to cover his face. His vision was blurry and his cheeks were wet and the sense of loss was like a huge hollow space growing and growing inside his body.
"Sempai," Renji said, more a breath than a word. His hand came up to rub, in awkward movements, against Shuhei's back.
"I hate this," Shuhei said, voice cracking just a little bit. "I don't want to talk about it, I don't want to feel this way. I just want to. . . I want to feel anything else."
Renji's hand stilled. And then, before Shuhei really knew what was going on, he was being pulled forward and lips were crashing against his. He didn't have to think about it before he started kissing back. He had wanted to feel something else, and this was something else. So he pulled, he pulled Renji as close as two bodies could be pulled together, and he crushed their teeth together. In his mind he wasn't thinking about Aoga anymore. He wasn't thinking about Kanisawa. He was just thinking about what was going on right in front of him.
Shuhei's hands were moving almost of their own accord, pulling away cloth as fast as they could. Renji's hands were doing likewise, until they were both semi-naked. Naked enough for what they wanted to do. That's what a hand wrapped itself around his cock.
"Sempai," Renji moaned, breaking their kiss, "how-"
But Shuhei pulled Renji forward so they were kissing again. He didn't want to talk logistics. He didn't want to talk, period. So he pulled Renji down into the mattress as he fell back, wrapping his legs around Renji's waist and humping upwards. Renji got the message easily enough. They kissed and grabbed and trust against each other, two animals rutting, cocks meeting in delicious heat and friction every time. Shuhei wasn't sure how long they carried on like that. His whole world was centered on the pleasure his cock felt as it rubbed against Renji's answering hardness, on Renji's scent and sweat and tongue. When he came he almost passed out, it felt so overdue. In his afterglow he was vaguely aware of Renji moving over him for several moments before the other man grunted and stilled.
A few seconds after that Renji rolled over off of him. They laid side by side on the narrow bed, shoulders, arms, and legs touching, only the sound of their heavy breathing filling the space of the room. In a little bit Renji would probably leave and they would both possibly regret doing this at all, but for now Shuhei was content. For now, at least, his mind was suitably distracted.
Ninth Division Barracks, Vice-Captain's Quarters
Kira flipped through the pages on Shuhei's desk as he waited for the other man to look for something or the other.
"Is this Renji's new column?" Kira asked. "Let's Do Bankai. . . seems like he has another hit on his hands."
"Yeah," Shuhei muttered. "But why it's so popular is beyond me. You know it's basically unprintable when he gets it to us? I had to stay up late editing all the grammar mistakes out."
"Is that a hint of jealousy I hear?" Kira teased, sounding for a little bit like the old Kira from academy and not the morbid bundle of nerves he had become under Gin's command. "Really, Hisagi-san, that's a little beneath you, isn't it? Just because a certain some one's column didn't do well. . ."
"Ha ha," Shuhei said, voice completely dry, before victoriously holding up some sheets of paper. "Okay, found it. Let's go pick up Abarai."
"Oh," Kira said, "I actually came to tell you that I can't drink with you guys today."
Shuhei frowned at the remark. Rebuilding after the Winter War was a slow, arduous process, and it hadn't been easy for any of them. The logistics behind rebuilding were bad enough, but there were scars that ran deeper than that, scars they all were dealing with. Hinamori was still a mess, Gin's death was still being mourned, and Aizen's betrayal had left an impact deep inside all of them. Aizen had saved him, Shuhei would think, on quiet nights when sleep failed to come to him. Aizen had saved him and Tousen had shaped him into the man he was. And yet both of them would have seen him dead, would have seen his world destroyed.
But those scars were all the more reason why time spent with friends was so important.
"What's got you so busy that you can't have a drink or two with your closest friends?" Shuhei asked.
Kira's expression, already a dull kind of thing, quickly turned morose. "Everything. You don't understand, you have a captain now. But I'm still stuck leading a squad that doesn't think I'm fit to even be vice-captain, let alone acting captain."
"They don't think that," Shuhei protested.
Kira raised an eyebrow. "I'm a pretty objective person, you know. I'm perfectly aware of what they say about me, sometimes not even behind my back."
"You've been doing fine so far," Shuhei replied.
Kira shrugged. "Like I said, you wouldn't understand. You must be ecstatic to work with your childhood hero."
Shuhei frowned at the mention of Muguruma Kensei, the man who had inspired him to become a shinigami. The man who he always thought would be his captain. "I was."
"Past tense?" Kira asked. "That can't be good."
Shuhei sighed. Kensei had only been back for a short time and Shuhei had already lost all delusions he had regarding the man. Kensei wasn't the superman Shuhei had thought he was. He wasn't even what Shuhei would consider a good captain. "He's an asshole. He always seems to be in a bad mood and he yells at people when they piss him off."
"Well," Kira said, "you know what they say about meeting your heros."
"What do they say?"
Kira blinked at the question, looking a little surprised that Shuhei had actually asked it. "Oh. . . I don't know, actually. I imagine something about how you're bound to be disappointed."
"Yeah, I can relate to that," Shuhei muttered. "You know, I can't help but suspect that he feels awkward around me. And why shouldn't he? I have his mark tattooed on my face, of all places. I mean, it was supposed to be a memorial. I thought he was dead, the official records said he was dead. It was supposed to be a testament to the man who saved my life. But he's alive. . . and he's a complete jerk. A complete jerk who's under the impression that I'm some obsessed creep."
"It can't be that bad," Kira said, before his thoughts turned back to what had spurred this topic to began with. "At least you actually have a captain."
Shuhei sighed again. This conversation wasn't going to go anywhere with Kira still feeling sorry for himself. "Are you going to walk with me to the sixth division, at least?"
"Might as well," Kira said. "It's on the way to the third."
On the way there Shuhei did his best to convince Kira to take the night off, but it was to no avail. They parted in front of the sixth division and Shuhei walked into the complex by himself. A few flash steps saw him in front of Renji's open door, through which it was clear to see that the room was empty.
"Hisagi-fukutaichou?"
Shuhei turned at the voice to see one of the sixth division members. "Yes?"
"If you're looking for Abarai-fukutaichou, he's with the captain right now."
"Oh. Thank you."
Shuhei took a breath before turning towards Byakuya's office. It was true that he needed to see Byakuya as well, but. . . not with Renji. Not with how well the two had been getting on ever since the ryoka invasion. The hollow feeling at the pit of his stomach grew with each step he took, until he was in front of Byakuya's door and could hear low voices conversing with each other. Shuhei knocked on the door.
"Come in." A commanding, imperious voice, accompanied by a distracted tone.
Shuhei pulled the screen door open to see Renji and Byakuya leaning over some papers on Byakuya's desk. They were sitting on different sides of the same corner, close enough that the sleeves of their kosode touched, close enough that they could whisper to each other and still be clearly heard. They were obviously going over official matters, but it still made Shuhei's stomach drop to see them together like this. Especially when, at one point, Renji surreptitiously leaned forward to smell Byakuya's hair.
"Kuchiki-taichou," Shuhei said. He walked up to the desk and placed the sheet of papers he had been holding down onto it. Right in front of Renji and Byakuya, forcing the two of them apart a little bit. "I have the new guidelines on layout and formatting that you wanted."
"I see," Byakuya said. "If that's the only business you have here, Hisagi Shuhei, then you are now dismissed."
Shuhei grit his teeth. Exactly what part of this cold, arrogant bastard did Renji like?
"Actually," Shuhei continued, "I also came to pick up Renji. I believe he's off-duty now."
Byakuya flashed him a glare as cold as ice and opened his mouth, no doubt to spout some line about rank and etiquette, but Renji was quicker to speak.
"We'll be done in a few minutes," Renji said, tone as carefree as ever. "Would you mind waiting?"
Shuhei shrugged. "It's fine with me."
"Renji's office is unoccupied," Byakuya remarked, before turning his attentions back to his papers.
Byakuya resumed his conversation with Renji as though Shuhei wasn't even there. It didn't take long for Shuhei to start feeling awkward and step out, making his way back to Renji's office and plopping down behind his desk. A few minutes stretched into several minutes, then it was fifteen, then it was nearly half an hour before Renji scrambled into the office.
"Sorry!" he called out. "I completely lost track of time!"
Shuhei glared at Renji even as he stood up from his seat. "It doesn't matter. Let's just go already."
As Shuhei started to walk quickly out of the division Renji fell into step beside him.
"I'll make it up to you," Renji said. "It'll be my treat tonight. Where are we going, anyway?"
"Rangiku-san wants us to meet her at her favorite bar," Shuhei replied.
"Yeah," Renji muttered, "probably so we'll pick up the tab. Hey, do you want to do something else instead? Rukia gave me this bottle of really expensive sake, it'd be a shame not to share."
Shuhei's ears perked at the mention of fine sake. Rukia, although adopted, had all the taste a Kuchiki should have when it came to food and drink. Not that Shuhei could really discern the difference between good and bad sake, no matter how sophisticated of a palate he liked to think that he had.
"Fine," Shuhei said, changing his path to go towards Renji's quarters instead of the usual bar.
When they got there, Shuhei settled into his usual spot at Renji's low table as Renji dug through his crowded cupboard. Soon there were cups and half-empty bottles and even an iron littered on Renji's small counter. But after awhile he emerged with a sand-colored bottle in his hand, formal Japanese characters hand-painted down the center of it.
"Here we go," he said. "I can't even read what the name of this stuff is, but Rukia assures me it's good stuff."
"It smells good," Shuhei said, holding the cup Renji had poured him up to his nose. He took a sip and let it sit in his mouth for a moment before swallowing. Smooth and warm. "It tastes really good, too."
"Sake all tastes the same to me," Renji admitted, already chugging down his cup. They drank in comfortable silence for a little bit before Renji decided to interrupt it. "Hey. Aren't you interested in what I was talking to Kuchiki-taichou about for so long?"
"No," Shuhei said. Then, thinking he had been too quick with his answer, made up some excuse to explain it away. "I assume it was administrative stuff."
"Yeah, well, it was at first. But then he brought up something else. Apparently he told Yamamoto-soutaichou that I've achieved bankai."
Shuhei nodded as Renji acted, curiously enough, sheepish and embarrassed.
"I see," Shuhei said.
"Yeah. So now they want to give me the captain's proficiency exam, see if I cut it."
Shuhei nearly choked on his sake. The idea of headstrong, tactless Renji in a respected captain's haori, in charge of his own division. . . well, it was a bit disconcerting. He respected Renji, he really did, but as captain material?
Apparently Renji felt the same way, since he was lightly blushing and rubbing at the back of his head for no reason. "I don't think they would have even considered it if it weren't for the fact that two of our divisions don't have captains right now. I guess they're kind of desperate. I mean, yeah, I've achieved bankai, but it takes decades to be able to even use it properly and I know enough to know I'm far from that point."
"Are you going to take it?" Shuhei asked. "The exam?"
Renji looked up and shrugged. "I dunno. Taichou wouldn't take an answer right then. I feel like if it helps Soul Society than I should just man up and go through with it, but. . . I don't really want to."
Shuhei nodded. He had figured as much.
"Don't you want to know why?" Renji asked.
"No," Shuhei replied. He knew exactly why Renji didn't want to leave the sixth division. "You must have your reasons."
"It's just that my connection with Kuchiki-taichou is so tenuous already," Renji said, going on despite Shuhei's answer. "We're getting along now and that's great, but the sixth division is pretty much the only thing we have in common. If I move to another division we probably wouldn't even talk to each other outside of captain meetings."
As a longing expression crossed Renji's face Shuhei felt that hollow feeling settle once again in his stomach. He drank some more in a vain attempt to fill it up. But as much as he hated talking about Byakuya with Renji, he still felt obligated to act the part of good sempai and friend.
"That's not true," he said. "Not if you make an attempt to talk to him."
"I guess," Renji said back, though he didn't sound terribly convinced. "You should hurry up and develop bankai too, Hisagi-san, so you can become a captain."
Shuhei scowled a little bit. For some reason this turn in the conversation was more irritating than what they had been talking about before. "You know, achieving bankai isn't that easy for most people."
"Don't worry," Renji smiling in a way that seemed meant to console. "Keep working hard and you'll get there, too."
Shuhei bit back a retort and decided that it was better just to change the subject. They talked about Renji's renewed efforts to start an intra-division futsal league and about Shuhei's efforts getting the Seiretei Communication together. It was nearing crunch time, after all, that week before publication when Shuhei and other ninth division members wouldn't even leave their offices.
Eventually things turned to the type of activity that always occurred whenever the two wound up alone together. It was Renji who initiated it this time, but it could have been either one of them. They were sitting close enough that their arms were touching, laughing about some story involving Momo and a rubber plant that she had watered religiously for a good week, getting closer and closer. Shuhei knew it was going to happen when Renji's arm came to rest on his back, when their eyes met and he realized their faces were only several inches apart. So Shuhei turned his head to provide a better angle and, when Renji kissed him, kissed back.
They weren't drunk at this point, only heavily buzzed, but that didn't stop the frantic clamor towards each other. It had been awhile. . . two week, three weeks? Shuhei wasn't sure at the moment, but he knew that right now his dick was completely hard with just a kiss and pretty soon he could forget about sex altogether, at least until the next edition of Seireitei Communication was published. So his hands were quick to roam all over Renji's body, quick to pull off the layers of Renji's robes as Renji did the same. Their hands were on each other's cocks, stroking and tugging just a bit too harshly, when Renji parted his legs and pulled Shuhei closer down on top of him. Their cocks ground together for a few moments before Shuhei pulled away.
"Bed?" he asked.
"Yeah," Renji replied, voice breathy and low. "I'll get the lube."
'Getting the lube' consisted of grabbing it off the small stand beside Renji's bed before they both tumbled on top of it. Renji tossed the lube at him, which Shuhei took to mean he was supposed to top this time, which. . . whatever. He maneuvered himself over Renji, his head over Renji's hips and his hips over Renji's head. As Renji's hard, flushed cock brushed against his cheek he felt his own cock surrounded in hot, wet heat. For a moment he just enjoyed the feeling of Renji sucking on him, but after awhile he realized he needed to reciprocate. He took Renji's cock into his mouth and sucked as his fingers reached down to work over Renji's hole with slick fingers.
It wasn't long before Renji was moaning and thrusting back against Shuhei's fingers. And soon after that the moans were replaced with a husky plea to "hurry up and fuck me already." Shuhei pulled his fingers out of that small, hot hole and moved so that he was behind Renji at the same time that Renji rolled over and positioned himself on all fours. Shuhei took all of two seconds to slick up his already red cock and positioned himself at Renji's pink hole. Then he watched, one hand on Renji's hip, as his cock sank into said hole, centimeter by centimeter. It always felt so good to have his cock gripped so tightly, to feel it being squeezed so completely. His cock slid all the way in easily, until his pubic hair was brushing against the globe's of Renji's ass, until Renji's puckered hole was stretched smooth and pink around the thick base of his cock.
"I'm moving," he said, both hands gripping Renji's hips so hard his fingernails might be sinking in. Renji's "yeah, do it" was all the answer he received before he started to fuck the shit out of the other man.
For awhile, the noises of their fucking filled the small space of the room. The sound of flesh slapping flesh as Shuhei's thighs and pelvic bone met Renji's ass, the wet noise of Renji's hole being absolutely pummeled, the sound of moaning and grunts. Shuhei's cock felt better and better with each thrust inside of Renji, until that pleasure was building up in his balls, until he felt himself close to coming. Eventually the pleasure spilled over. He pulled himself out of Renji's ass and gave his cock a few good strokes. It jerked, once, twice, and a few thin streams of semen shot out to land on Renji's lower back. They glistened pearly white on Renji's skin, growing by drips as Shuhei kept pulling on himself until he was sure that every last drop was out of him.
Renji, busy jerking himself off through it all, grabbed a tissue from the nightstand as Shuhei fell over onto the bed. Shuhei would have helped Renji out, but Renji was already close, and quickly shot his load into the thin white sheet. Renji threw the tissue away and got off the bed to go clean himself off in the bathroom, leaving Shuhei alone on his futon for just a moment. They were both tired, from long days at work and alcohol and sex, and were no doubt ready to fall asleep. When Renji came back he shut the lights off and got into bed. Before he dozed off, though, he threw an arm around Shuhei's chest and let his lips linger at Shuhei's temple in a warm kiss.
And it was those little pieces of affection that Shuhei hated the most, even as much as he loved them. Because they allowed him to, if only for a moment, pretend that the two of them had an intimate relationship past close friends seeking physical release. They had sex together because it was convenient and it was familiar. Shuhei just wished it was something more.
Ninth Division, Editing Department
Kensei was yelling at someone. It wasn't exactly out of character for him, as Shuhei had discovered in the short time that he had been back. This time the victim of the tirade was Toshimori, something Shuhei had to admit was inevitable. Toshimori was a fool, after all. Everyone in the large room outside Kensei's office was trying hard to appear busy or disinterested, but it was obvious enough that they were listening with rapt attention. It was rather hard not to. Shuhei made his way to the screen door separating Kensei's office from the communal work space and waited for the rant to die down.
". . . a rookie mistake that could have gotten your team killed! How on Earth did you even become a seated officer? This level of incompetency is unacceptable even among the unseated officers. In the time I've been here you've continued to surprise me with just how much of an idiot you can be; each one of your mistakes get stupider and stupider. I'd like to expel you from this division altogether, but for now I'm just taking away your rank. Now get the fuck out of my office!"
The door clamored open and Toshimori ran out, ignoring all the looks he was getting by keeping his eyes on the floor. His face was flushed red and his fists were clenched by his side, but then he was gone, and slowly the room's activities returned to normal. Shuhei, for his part, knocked twice and stepped into Kensei's office.
Kensei was looking over papers when he came in. He was dressed in the sleeveless shirt and cargo pants that he seemed to favor from the human world. His black shinigami robes and captain's haori hung in pristine condition on a hook on the wall. Shuhei couldn't help but run his fingers reverently over the white fabric as he stepped in, thinking that if Kensei respected this position he could act least wear the proper garments.
"Hisagi," Kensei said with a sigh, "it's not like I don't notice how you're looking at me right now. Go ahead and say whatever it is you're thinking."
Shuhei turned to look at Kensei. It always struck him how the real Kensei looked somewhat younger than the Kensei of his memory. Maybe that was because of how young Shuhei was himself at the time, or maybe it was the close-cropped hair and eyebrow ring that Kensei now sported.
"Muguruma-taichou," Shuhei started, before he was interrupted.
"Kensei," Kensei said. "Every one calls me Kensei, I don't see why my vice-captain shouldn't do the same."
"Kensei," Shuhei said, though they both knew he would forget and revert back to the more formal greeting the next time it came up. "If I have permission to speak freely-"
"You do."
"I understand that you must be frustrated with Umesada, but there are more effective ways of motivating your men. He was completely humiliated when he left here."
"Maybe a little embarrassment would do him good," Kensei countered. "I don't suffer fools gently."
"For all his faults," Shuhei continued, "Umesada got to his position based on merit. He can perform his job well when handled appropriately."
"So, what?" Kensei asked. "I'm supposed to treat him with kiddie gloves just to get him to do his job? I don't know how Tousen did things, but I'm not going to waste time coddling my men. If they can't cut it they can get the hell out of my division."
"There's a difference between not coddling someone and verbally abusing them."
That comment got Kensei to look up from his papers. "This is how I run things, Hisagi. I suggest you get used to it. Now, I take it you had other business to talk about?"
Shuhei nodded as he sat down. "The editors' meeting is today, so I thought we should go over some things beforehand."
"Agreed," Kensei said. "Let's get started, then."
It took them about two hours to hash out the things they both wanted to clarify before the meeting. Layouts, formatting, content. Which articles they were going to showcase, which they were going to bury near the back, and which they were going to get rid of altogether. By the end of it Shuhei was completely drained, though not without a small sense of accomplishment. He was about to excuse himself when one of Kensei's friends walked in. Shuhei recognized him, though they had never actually met. It was hard not to notice the man, given his height, penchant for bright green jogging suits, and star-shaped afro.
"Love," Kensei said, supplying Shuhei with a name. "What are you doing here? Last I checked, visored still didn't have permission to come and go as they pleased."
"Yeah, well, Soul Society's playing nice since they're still trying to entice some of us back. Why their plea actually worked on you, I'll never know." Love turned to Shuhei then, nodding in greeting. "Hey. Kensei told me about you. . . you're that kid he saved, right? Did you ever imagine you'd be working under him when you grew up?"
"I was just leaving," Shuhei said, standing up. He made his way out of the room as Love made his way into it, taking enough time to hear Kensei attempt to explain, in a rather irritated tone, that he was busy and Love better not have shown up just to hang out.
The rest of the day flew by. There were too many things to do and not enough time to do them in. By the time Shuhei stumbled out of the editors' meeting, the last thing on his schedule for the day, he was completely spent. When he got home he didn't even eat, only fell into his bed as he let his muscles relaxed. A quick look at his calendar showed him that this was probably going to be his last full night of sleep for a week. Crunch time was going to start tomorrow. He resolved to enjoy it and closed his eyes.
They next day Shuhei cooked himself a big breakfast and packed himself an even bigger lunch. He would need it, if past experience was any indication. Once he got to headquarters, he wasn't surprised to see that it was already a chaotic mess. He made his way to his office, ignoring the three division members who assaulted him with questions along the way, and shut the door behind him. He needed to take care of his own work before he started helping with everyone else's; they would just have to wait.
When Shuhei did come out, a little before noon, he was surprised to find that no one jumped up and raced to him with some concern or problem they were having. The reason soon became clear when he saw Kensei out in the workroom, helping and supervising. Shuhei had grown so used to taking care of things on his own that he had forgotten what having a captain was like. It was nice, not being bombarded with information and questions every two seconds. He made his way over to Akira, the head articles editor, and handed him the final copy of his article.
"Thanks," Akira said, taking it and adding it to a growing pile. "I think that we're only missing two articles now, which is a huge improvement from this time last month when we were missing about half of them."
Shuhei shuddered as he remembered. That edition had been hell to put out, but somehow they had gotten it done.
"Okay," Shuhei said. "Let me know if you need me to help you with that. Do you have the articles that have already been proof-read and fact-checked? I'll look them over now and give them the final okay."
Akira nodded and pointed to a stack of papers, which Shuhei grabbed before taking a seat at an empty surface. He guessed it was better to be out here than to be locked in his office, in case anyone needed him. He did his best to tune out all the noise as he started to go through the papers.
Surprisingly, everything went according to schedule for the next few days. It didn't mean they weren't all still ridiculously busy, but at least they were busy and vaguely on track. It was the fifth night of crunch week before they hit their first major snag. Headquarters had mostly cleared out, less than a dozen people remaining. Shuhei was finishing up the task he was working on, excited about the prospect of going back to the barracks for a few hours of sleep before waking up and heading back out. He had taken two steps towards the door when Kensei's loud voice erupted into the air. Every one's heads whipped to look at him almost subconsciously.
"This layout is all wrong!" Kensei was yelling at a red-faced Takehiko. "If the magazine went to press with this, a quarter of the content would be cut off. Please, please don't tell me you already entered all of this into the printing presses."
Takehiko turned even more red than he even was, gluing his eyes to the floor.
"You're fucking kidding me," Kensei barked out.
Shuhei, deciding that he didn't need to listen to his childhood hero berate another poor soul, left headquarters. In the morning he would help Takehiko fix this, but for now he needed three or four hours of sleep at least.
The next day (well, technically the same day, given how late he had stayed the night before), Shuhei came to headquarters early to find Takehiko there alone. The poor man looked dead tired. Shuhei walked up to him and put a hand on his shoulder, causing Takehiko to jump a good foot in the air.
"Have you been here all night?" Shuhei asked.
Takehiko could only muster up the energy for half a nod. "It was a pretty huge mistake and we needed it fixed asap."
Shuhei frowned. "Still, Muguruma-taichou could have given you at least a few hours of sleep, instead of making you stay up all night and doing all of this by yourself."
"I wasn't by myself," Takehiko said. "Taichou stayed up all night with me to help. Actually, he basically did everything, I was the one helping him. He just went into his office ten minutes ago when we finished."
"Oh," Shuhei said. After hearing that he felt a little guilty over the fact that he hadn't stayed to help.
"Taichou's pretty harsh," Takehiko whined, "but he's a good captain. He didn't need to help me as much as he did."
"Yeah," Shuhei agreed. "He didn't. Why don't you go back to barracks and take a nap? You look like you need it."
Takehiko nodded, but instead of getting up to leave he just plopped right down on the table and started to snore. Shuhei turned to look at Kensei's half-open door. He guessed he shouldn't have been surprised, but he was a little bit. He wondered when he forgot that, at his core, Kensei was basically a good man. Maybe it was when he realized that Kensei wasn't the man he had put up on a pedestal all those years ago.
Shuhei made his way towards Kensei's office. He knocked twice, but only as a formality, as he was already peering into the open door. Kensei had his head on his desk, snoring softly with pen still in hand. A small puddle of drool had accumulated underneath his mouth. Really, Shuhei thought, this was not the behavior that he had expected his hero to exhibit. Snoring and drooling seemed the provinces of lesser men.
Shuhei stepped up to the desk and gently, careful not to disturb, pulled the pen out of Kensei's grip. He placed it down on the table and looked over the other man for a moment. His usually sharp features were softer, somehow, in sleep. Still handsome, despite the rather uncouth way his mouth gaped open just that little bit. He would probably be hungry when he woke up. Shuhei took out a tray of the bento he had prepared for his own lunch and set it down next to Kensei, then left to take care of his own work.
Kensei showed up in his office a few hours later, empty tray in hand. He rubbed at the back of his head as he looked at some point past Shuhei's ear.
"Ummm," he started. "Thanks. For the food. I heard you were the one who left it there. It was real good."
"You're welcome," Shuhei replied.
Shuhei waited, but Kensei just stood there for a few long moments, not speaking and not leaving.
"You make it yourself?" he finally asked.
Shuhei nodded.
"You're a good cook," Kensei replied.
"Thank you."
A few more moments. Then Kensei stepped towards the desk, depositing the tray there.
"Well, there you go. Already washed it for you."
"Thanks," Shuhei said, wondering where this terse conversation was going. But then he noticed that there were papers tucked underneath Kensei's arm, the name 'Aizen' written on the surface of one of them. Curiosity got the better of him. "What's that?"
"A possible article for next edition," Kensei replied. "I know I should be focused on this edition right now, but this article will need the permission of the Central 46 and tons of red tape to get through. I want to interview Aizen."
Shuhei's ears perked up. That was certainly an intriguing idea. "What for? What's the article?"
"I'll know once I start talking to him," Kensei replied. "If that even happens. I mean, all we've released so far is propaganda, I thought it would be good to have an objective account of events."
"Propaganda?" Shuhei sputtered. "You mean all the literature about how he tried to destroy our world as we know it? Which he did, in fact, do?"
"You've gotta admit that there's been a lot of bias in those things," Kensei said. "I mean, Aizen went about it the wrong way, but sometimes I wonder if his motives were really terrible."
Shuhei almost didn't believe his ears. "What are you saying? Aizen tried to overthrow everything Soul Society stands for. He ruined your life."
"And Soul Society was complicit in it. It was Soul Society that was going to execute me. Look, I'm not saying that what Aizen did was right, and I'm glad we took down the fucker, but don't you ever stop to wonder what his intentions were? What was he trying to do exactly? Overthrow Soul Society, sure, but what would he have done once he was in charge? Maybe he was trying to build a better world the whole time. We all know Soul Society ain't the best place to grow up. An oligarchy that wields their power on whims, a system that favors the nobility and the strong, and a wall to keep out undesirable elements of the population, where they can suffer without us having to see it. What kind of world is that? And no one's even trying to make things better, to help those less fortunate then them. When was the last time you visited your area of Rukongai? Hand out clothes and water to the kids, try to improve their lives?"
"But you don't know if Aizen was trying to build a better society," Shuhei countered. "You're making assumptions that have no basis in the facts we have."
"Yeah, maybe," Kensei agreed. "Which is why I want to talk to him. No one even thought to ask him what he was trying to do. Look, it's a fact that history is written by the victors. Revolutionaries are hailed as heros or villains depending on whether they succeed or fail. If Aizen had won, what would we be saying about him now?"
"Nothing," Shuhei said. "We'd probably be dead. He would have killed every last one of us."
"Now you're the one making assumptions."
"Am I?" Shuhei asked. "He was fine with killing the millions of innocent people in Karakura town, I imagine he'd be pretty tempted to kill the dozens of people who actually stood against him. I don't care what Aizen's motives were, the ends don't justify the means, and the fact was he callously experimented with dozens of shinigami lives, including yours, and was about to eradicate a whole human city from the map."
"All the more reason to talk to him," Kensei said. "Even if he's just some one-dimensional, power-hungry despot, it'd be good to hear it from his own mouth. Why he did the things he did. What he hoped to gain from them."
Shuhei sighed. "Well, I do agree with you on one thing, an interview with him would be interesting. If you can even get permission to do it."
A corner of Kensei's mouth quirked up, just a little bit, so minutely that Shuhei almost didn't realize that he was smiling.
"Yeah," he said. "I'm working on it."
"Good luck," Shuhei said, with his own answering smile. He watched as Kensei left the office, wondering if the other man would actually be able to pull it off.
Twenty-eight hours later, the newest edition of Seireitei Communication was done. Shuhei picked one up from the pile that sat there. It was still hot from the press, and its warmth spread through his hands as he took in that unique smell. If he was being cheesy he would say it was the smell of accomplishment.
"Congratulations, every one!" Kensei was screaming, in a joyful tone this time, a huge smile on his face. "We've just published the twelve thousand, two hundred seventy-sixth edition of the Seireitei Communication! Give yourselves a pat on the back and chug some sake, you all deserve it!"
Cheers sounded from every corner of the editing department. Shuhei smiled. Soon they would have to deliver all these magazines, but that part of the job wasn't so difficult, and for now they could relax. And drink. People were already opening the customary end-of-edition sake bottles. For the rest of today, they were off.
Shuhei hopped around from group to group as the day progressed, getting progressively more and more drunk. Eventually he ended up in the same group as Kensei. The two smiled and clinked their glasses together.
"Thanks for all your hard work," they said to each other.
Later that night Shuhei stumbled into his room dead drunk, intent on getting some sleep. So he was surprised when, as he clicked on the lights, he heard three voices calling out, "Happy Birthday!
"What?" Shuhei asked, before almost collapsing on his floor. An arm wrapped around his back just in time and he caught a waft of Renji's scent.
"We figured you wouldn't remember, since it was crunch week." Momo's voice, but all Shuhei could see was a blurry lump in front of him. "And we also thought you wouldn't want us to interrupt your work to celebrate. But your birthday was two days ago, Shuhei."
"Huh," Shuhei said. "Go figure."
And that's when he felt the urge to vomit. He said something to that effect, and before he knew he it was leaning over the toilet, hands rubbing his back. He was only vaguely aware of what was going on. The last thing he remembered was cool porcelain against his cheek, and then he blacked out.
Shuhei woke up feeling perfectly fine. He was lucky that he had never had a hangover in his life. He usually woke up severely dehydrated, sure, but that was nothing some water or soup wouldn't fix. As he got up he became aware of a body next to him, but assuming that either Renji or Kira had stayed to take care of him he ignored it for now. He made his way to his small kitchen area and poured himself a glass of water from the tap, chugging it down before pouring another one. There was a cake sitting on his counter top, meticulously decorated with all manner of seasonal fruits, and he realized that Momo had probably baked it for him. He cut out a slice, resolving to thank her for the breakfast later on.
"Cut me a slice, too," Kira said, as he got off the bed. "Feeling better?"
"I feel great," Shuhei replied. "Sorry I spoiled whatever plans you guys had for me."
"Don't worry about it," Kira said. "We should have known that you would have been celebrating with your division yesterday."
They sat down at Shuhei's small table and started to eat their cake, enjoying the fluffy, not-to-sweet slices.
"So what happened yesterday, anyway?" Shuhei asked, in between bites. "I only remember bits and pieces."
"Pretty much, you stumbled into the room and then started throwing up. You were probably hunched over the toilet for a good half hour."
Shuhei groaned. "Again, I'm really sorry about that."
"And again," Kira said, "don't worry about it. Eventually Momo left to tell Rangiku and the others that you wouldn't be making it to the bar. Renji stuck around for awhile and helped you throw up. He cleaned you up after you were done and put you in bed."
"Oh," Shuhei said, feeling something skip inside of him at the revelation. He knew it didn't mean anything. Renji would have done the same for Kira or Momo, but he still couldn't help the happiness that flared up inside him at the thought that Renji had taken care of him.
"But then he had to go; apparently Byakuya wanted him to finish something by the morning, so he headed back to his office."
And at the mention of Byakuya, that little bit of happiness was instantly squashed.
"I decided to stick around," Kira said. "Make sure you didn't choke on your own vomit in your sleep."
"Does that happen?" Shuhei asked. "Or is this just you being gloomy and pessimistic?"
Kira shrugged. "It seems like something that could happen. So how did crunch week go? This is the first edition you've all made since Muguruma-taichou came back, isn't it?"
Shuhei nodded. "It went pretty smoothly, actually. It's nice having a captain around to take care of things. I think. . . I think my opinion of Muguruma-taichou has changed a little because of the experience. Maybe I just needed to get used to him. I mean, he's completely different from Tousen, so that's going to take some time for everyone to get used to."
"Yeah," Kira agreed. "I didn't want to say anything before, but I thought you were being kind of hard on him. The problem was your expectations were too high. There was no way he could live up to them, no way you wouldn't be disappointed."
"Maybe," Shuhei said, though he had to admit there was a ring of truth to what Kira was saying. The fact was he had to let go of the man he thought Kensei would be and look at the man that Kensei actually was. Had he ever truly seen him, unfiltered by the lens of childhood idealism and hero worship?
"Oh," Kira said, eyes lighting up a little even as his general expression didn't change. "You should open our presents. Momo's present is the cake, but you haven't seen what Renji and I got you."
Kira got up and shuffled to the counter, picking up two gift-wrapped items that Shuhei hadn't seen before and shuffling back. He put them in front of Shuhei and sat down. It was obvious which package was from who. One was neatly wrapped in traditional furoshiki, the other wrapped in rough paper with bits of tape and jagged edges clearly visible. Shuhei picked up Kira's present first and undid the fabric holding it together, a little confused to see a thin, shiny rectangular object sitting there.
"It's a modern way of listening to music," Kira explained.
Shuhei held the rectangular device up to his ear. Nothing. He shook it. Still nothing. He looked at it and found a small indent on the bottom, but pressing it didn't do anything.
"How does it work?" he asked.
At the question, Kira's expression turned a little sheepish. "I'm not sure. I was going to ask the twelfth division if they could figure it out, but I didn't have the time. Sorry."
"No, I can always ask them myself," Shuhei said. "Thanks, Kira, that's really cool."
As Kira smiled and nodded, Shuhei picked up the other present. He tore the paper off to reveal a book; a cookbook, actually. The newest from one of Seireitei's more celebrated restauranteurs. Shuhei smiled as he ran a hand along the glossy, hard cover. Renji could be pretty considerate, when he wanted to be.
"Well, I should go," Kira said.
"Seriously, Kira, take a day off every now and then."
Kira frowned at the suggestion. "Sure. Maybe when I'm not doing the work of two people."
Shuhei sighed but didn't press the issue. "I'll walk you out. I might as well help hand out copies of the magazine; who knows how many people showed up today to do it, given how much everyone drank yesterday."
They walked out together but parted pretty quickly. Shuhei headed to the editing department as Kira headed to his own division. When he got there he saw that, as expected, only half the magazines were delivered. He picked up a batch himself and a list of subscribers and headed out, doing his part to help.
When he was done he made his way towards headquarters. It seemed like it had been forever since he had been at his proper office, instead of holed up in his office at the editing department. He noted from the open door that Kensei was also in his office, and his mind remembered Kira's present to him, currently tucked in the folds of his robes. Kensei might know how to use it. He took it out and stepped into the office.
"Muguruma-taichou."
Kensei looked up from his paperwork. There were bags underneath his eyes and new creases in his forehead. Apparently he didn't handle alcohol as well as Shuhei did. "Can I help you, Hisagi?"
"If this isn't a good time-"
"It's fine," Kensei said. "What do you need?"
Shuhei handed the device to Kensei. "Kira gave this to me. He said that I can use it to listen music, but we don't know how. I was wondering if you knew how it worked."
"This is an iPod," Kensei said, taking the device in his hands. "An uncharged one. You'll need headphones and a charger, plus some way of actually downloading music."
Kensei looked up at Shuhei, but it was obvious that the younger man had no idea what he was talking about.
"I'll tell you what," Kensei continued. "If you like, I'll give this to Love next time he's up here. He can go download music onto it and come back with anything else you need."
"That would be great," Shuhei said. "Thank you."
"It's fine," Kensei replied. "What kind of music do you like? Rock?"
Shuhei nodded. "How did you know?"
"I see you heading to the mountains with your electric guitar all the time. You get a chance to listen to the stuff very often?"
"Akon in the twelfth division has a compact disc player," Shuhei replied. "Sometimes I'll borrow it and listen to his collection of stuff. He doesn't have a lot of discs, though, just whatever people find and bring him when they're in the human world. Do you listen to music?"
"Not particularly," Kensei admitted. "I guess that makes me a pretty boring guy, huh?"
Shuhei shrugged at the question. "I'm sure you have your own interests."
"Well," Kensei said, "I'll have this back to you as soon as I can."
Shuhei nodded and turned to go, but stopped with just a few steps left.
"Does Love come often?" Shuhei asked, a little curious about it.
Kensei scowled and nodded. "That man has entirely too much time on his hands."
Sixth Division Barracks, Vice-captain's Quarters
"This is Roxy Music," Shuhei said. He and Renji were laying in bed, the iPod in Shuhei's hand between them. One bud of the headphones was tucked into Shuhei's right ear, the other into Renji's left. Their heads were almost pressed together as they listened to the music Love and the other visoreds thought Shuhei would enjoy. "Their stuff is older, by human standards, but I like it a lot."
"Yeah," Renji agreed. "This song is pretty cool."
"Listen to this version of it," Shuhei went on. "I kind of like it even more. The guy singing is in another band that I'll play for you later, this band called Radiohead."
"It's cool, too, but I prefer the original."
It was a quiet, lazy afternoon. Neither of their divisions had much going on, and the two men had found themselves back in Renji's quarters after walking around Seireitei for a bit. They had had sex, showered, and eaten, and now they were just relaxing on Renji's futon and sharing Shuhei's music.
"Kind of makes you want to learn how to play, doesn't it?" Shuhei asked.
Renji grinned at him. "You just want a member for that band you always talk about making. Listen, I'll make you a deal. I'll learn an instrument and join your band when you organize a futsal team in the ninth division."
They listened to a few more songs before Renji mumbled a comment that he probably thought flippant but that struck Shuhei to the core.
"I wonder what Byakuya would think of music like this."
Shuhei felt cold all of a sudden. Things always came back to Byakuya. He was all Renji could talk about, all he could think about, ever since they day he had first seen him in the academy. Shuhei remembered that day, remembered how Renji had been distracted all throughout lunch, joining their conversation only to ask if they knew anything about Kuchiki Byakuya. And ever since then, everything Renji did was for Byakuya. Becoming vice-captain, achieving bankai, it was all so he could stand on equal ground with the man he had somehow fallen in love with.
And Shuhei couldn't even say anything about it. They weren't in a relationship, after all. They were good friends who happened to fuck. He didn't have the right to say anything.
"I can't imagine him listening to this kind of stuff," Renji continued. "What do you think he listens to? Gagaku, maybe?"
"I don't know," Shuhei said, attempting to sound as casual as he could. Still, he pulled the headphone from his ear and got off the bed.
"Where are you going?" Renji asked.
"To get something to drink," Shuhei said. "Actually, I might leave now anyway. I haven't had a chance to read the latest Communication, and I might as well take advantage of the afternoon."
"Don't you read it enough in the editing process?" Renji asked.
"Only some articles," Shuhei replied. He hadn't read Kensei's article, for example, and he was interested in seeing what it would be like. He didn't even know what it was about. The captain usually didn't have to disclose the contents of his article to the rest of the staff unless he wanted to, and Tousen was notoriously secretive about what he was going to write about. Possibly because he never knew until the last moment. But Shuhei supposed everyone was used to not asking, so no one had bothered to ask Kensei.
"Oh. Well, here you go. Can't forget your music thing."
Renji dropped the iPod in Shuhei's hands as Shuhei nodded.
"Thanks," Shuhei said. "I'll see you later."
"Later."
Shuhei was close to his own quarters when he noticed Love coming out of a building. The man really was here a lot. As they passed each other Shuhei nodded and Love waved in greeting.
"Hey," Love said. "If it isn't the vice-captain Kensei thinks is so cute."
Shuhei almost raised an eyebrow, but then realized that Kensei was probably referring to when Shuhei had been a child. He had been rather adorable.
"Aikawa-san," Shuhei greeted. "I should thank you for helping me with my iPod."
"No problem," Love said. "You like the stuff we put on there?"
Shuhei nodded.
"Good, good. Me and Shinji nearly got into a fist fight deciding what to download. I thought we should put a little of everything there since we didn't know what you liked, but he's such a music snob he didn't want anything on that didn't meet his standards. Which means there's nothing from this past decade, haha. Sorry about that."
"What you put on there was fine," Shuhei said. "I appreciate the time you spent on it."
"Sure, no problem. It was fun."
"Were you just visiting Muguruma-taichou?" Shuhei asked. "You seem to visit often."
"Yeah, well, just trying to convince him to come back to the human world," Love admitted, looking just a little bit sheepish about it. "Look, don't take this the wrong way, but we'd rather have Kensei back with us than here in Soul Society."
Shuhei nodded. "That's understandable, given what you all went through together, but I think he's capable of making his own decisions."
"Sure, sure," Love agreed. "Only I can't help but thinking he's doing this for us. I don't know how much he's told you about how we became visored or how much was publicized after the war, but Kensei blames himself for the fact that we were all turned. He thinks that if he had done his job properly, if he hadn't let Tousen get the better of him, then we'd still be shinigami and sitting pretty up here. I think that when Soul Society started sending shinigami to pester us about coming back, Kensei thought that him going back would take the pressure off us. So we could stay in the human world without being harassed by the Gotei 13. Which he was right about, actually, they've left us alone since then."
Shuhei shifted from one foot to another, not sure how to process with this newfound information.
"You're not helping things any," Love said, though he did so with a laugh. "He says he can't have an intellectual conversation with any of us. Says he likes having someone like you around to debate with."
That surprised Shuhei a little bit. He and Kensei had disagreed on a great many number of things since Kensei had come back. Shuhei had never considered arguments over those things 'debates,' but he realized now that that's what they were.
"At any rate," Love continued. "I should be going. Take care, yeah, Hisagi?"
"You too," Shuhei said, watching as Love left.
Shuhei walked the rest of the way to the barracks lost in thought. He hadn't really imagined that Kensei didn't really want to be here, but he supposed it wasn't too farfetched. But Shuhei had just gotten used to having a captain again; he wasn't sure how he felt about losing Kensei so soon.
When he got back to his quarters, Shuhei grabbed his copy of the Seireitei communication and settled into his futon to read. It took about an hour before he got to Kensei's article. It took him twenty minutes to read it. And then eighteen minutes to read it again. He had to admit that it was good. . . a well-written and compelling narrative about a vagabond samurai cast out of his village. It wasn't what Shuhei expected; for some reason, he had thought Kensei's article would be a non-fictional one.
Yet Kensei's story was heavy, possibly too heavy for the regular readers of Seireitei Communication. While not everyone would pick it up, Shuhei could see parallels between this story and that of the visoreds. He could see parallels between the small village and the less desirable parts of Rukongai. He couldn't help but wonder where this story would lead.
First Division Headquarters
Renji stood outside first division headquarters with Shuhei, Kira, and Momo, looking equal parts nervous and shocked.
"I still can't believe you passed the exam," Kira said.
"I still can't believe it either," Renji said. "I can't believe I'm going to be a captain. I mean. . . this is crazy, isn't it? This is absolutely crazy."
"Yeah," Shuhei agreed, "it's pretty crazy."
"I know I said I wanted a captain," Kira said, "but I didn't mean you."
"You guys are so mean," Momo said. "Abarai-kun is going to be a great captain. Don't be nervous, Abarai-kun, you'll make a great captain."
"Just don't think that we're going to start calling you taichou from now on," Shuhei said. "Because that's not going to happen."
"Yeah," Renji said. He didn't even seem like he was paying attention to what they were saying. "Okay."
"What's that in your hand?" Momo asked, looking down at where Renji's fist was clenched over something.
"Hmm? Oh, a kind of good luck charm Byakuya gave me. It looks super expensive so I'm afraid to put it down. Might lose it, you know?"
Shuhei frowned. Renji's hand was nearly white it was gripping the charm so tightly.
"You guys better go in," Renji said. "I just need a few moments."
The trio nodded and left. When they got to the main hall of the first division headquarters Shuhei took his position by Kensei's side; Renji came in a few minutes after that. The promotion ceremony was, thankfully enough, short. It was basically comprised of Yamamoto making the same speech he always did and then draping the captain's haori over Renji's shoulders. Renji looked awkward and overly formal in it, though Shuhei supposed that would fade in time.
During the ceremony, Shuhei couldn't help but keep one eye on Byakuya. The man stood with perfect posture, nose slightly tilted upwards, every inch of him looking the noble that he was. Shuhei couldn't help but hate him a little bit, even as he realized how irrational it was to do so. Byakuya was ridiculously handsome and carried himself with pride and bearing. He was everything Shuhei wasn't, and it always made Shuhei's stomach drop to remember that.
After the ceremony Shuhei watched as Byakuya approached Renji. They exchanged some words that Shuhei couldn't hear, but then Byakuya said something that sounded like, "call me Byakuya."
Shuhei frowned and inched forward. Renji was blushing and stumbling over his words as he replied.
"Oh, I don't know, just because I got a little promotion-"
"Hardly," Byakuya said back, in that imperious tone. "After all we have been through together, I have decided that it would be suitable."
"Oh. . . okay. . . umm. . . Bya- Byakuya."
Shuhei felt physically ill. How wonderful it was that Renji and Byakuya seemed to be getting closer and closer. Shuhei, however, hardly wanted to bear witness to it. He turned and made his way out of the building, stopping only when he heard someone calling his name. He turned around to see Kensei behind him.
"Are you returning to headquarters?" Kensei asked.
Shuhei nodded in reply.
"I'll come with you."
Again, Shuhei only nodded as Kensei fell into step beside him.
"These ceremonies are as dull as I remember," Kensei said, striking up a conversation. "Though thankfully shorter."
"At least they don't happen too often," Shuhei replied.
"It's odd to see how the Gotei 13 has changed," Kensei continued. "Most of the faces are different, and even some of the familiar ones have changed. It's always a shock for me to see how much Nanao and Byakuya have grown up. Especially Byakuya. . . he used to be such an insufferable brat."
"Mmm hmm," Shuhei said, trying to sound non-committal. He didn't particularly want to talk about Byakuya, even if it was some past version.
"Hisagi, are you okay?"
The concern lacing Kensei's voice startled Shuhei out of his daze. His head turned to the side to look at his captain.
"I'm fine," he said.
Kensei frowned as he looked him over. "You seem a bit out of sorts, but if you say you're okay then I'll let it go."
Shuhei nodded in gratitude. They parted when they reached the ninth division, heading to their respective offices. Shuhei found, however, that he couldn't get much done. He couldn't help but wonder what Renji and Byakuya were doing. They were equals now, just like Renji always wanted. Maybe he would finally confess to the man. Maybe that was what he was doing now. Shuhei's heart clenched at the thought of it.
He felt beyond pathetic. Falling in love all on his own, being heartbroken all on his own, with the subject of his affection none the wiser. Was he going to be in love with Renji forever? Was he going to let this continue, sharing a bed and pining away for Renji as Renji pined for Byakuya? Decades this had been going on. Decades of outings that were merely friendly and sex that was only physical release and comfort. Decades of his heart breaking every time he so much as caught a glimpse of Byakuya. How long, Shuhei thought, was he going to let this go on?
Shuhei felt like he was on a treadmill. Running and running in one spot, never getting anywhere but tired.
A throat clearing filled the air. Shuhei looked up to see Kensei frowning and standing at his open door.
"I know I said I wouldn't interfere," Kensei said, "but I've been standing here for a good ten minutes and you haven't moved a centimeter. We're going out. You could use the distraction."
Shuhei blinked at the statement. "But work-"
"I'm done with mine and you're not going to get anything done in the state you're in. Get up. That's an order, fukutaichou."
Shuhei was about to do as he said when Toshimori, of all people, interrupted them.
"Umm. . . Taichou. . . there's. . . something-"
"Spit it out," Kensei said, arms crossed in anticipation of what was surely going to be some awful mistake.
Toshimori flinched at the words. "I somehow destroyed all the magazines that I was supposed to deliver."
Kensei's eyebrow twitched. "Somehow destroyed. And how many is that?"
"Not that many," Toshimori said, wringing his hands together. "A few hundred. Well, several hundred. Eight hundred and fifty."
A vein appeared on Kensei's forehead. He opened his mouth wide, but then glanced at Shuhei and closed it again. He took a deep breath. Then, in a calm voice of normal volume, said, "This level of incompetency is unacceptable, even if you are only an unseated officer. In the time I've been here you've continued to surprise me with just how much of an idiot you can be; each one of your mistakes get stupider and stupider. One more mistake like this and I really will dismiss you from my division."
Shuhei couldn't help but smile, though he hid it behind some papers on his desk. That was an improvement, at least. Even Toshimori seemed surprised over the fact that he hadn't been yelled at.
"Yes, Taichou," Toshimori stammered out. "It won't happen again."
"It better not. Now get the hell out of this office."
Shuhei watched Toshimori run away before turning back to Kensei. "I'm impressed. It must have taken a lot of control to repress that temper of yours."
Kensei sighed. "Well, as someone once told me, people don't respond well to verbal abuse. I'm trying here, Hisagi."
"I appreciate it," Shuhei answered back. "I'm sure the entire ninth division does."
Kensei nodded. "And at least you're smiling now. So let's go for that break, yeah?"
Kensei's idea of a break was to take them to a small shack of a restaurant in the first eastern district of Rukongai. It was small but nice enough, full despite the fact that it was outside of meal hours. Perfect timing afforded them a table in the corner, and they ordered some snacks and beers before Kensei breached the topic.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Kensei asked.
"Not really," Shuhei replied. "It's a little too personal to be talking to my captain about. I hope you're not offended."
Kensei shook his head. "Not at all. But if you want to get it off your chest, I'm willing to listen. It's just that you were perfectly fine before the ceremony; I can't think of what could have caused this change of mood."
"I just started thinking about a lot of things," Shuhei said. "It's my fault, I shouldn't have let it interfere with work."
Kensei nodded. "This wouldn't be some kind of jealously, would it? I know that Abarai was a kouhei of yours in the academy, but you shouldn't feel bad that he was promoted ahead from you. Everyone matures at their own rate."
"It's not that," Shuhei said. He might have been jealous, but not in the way Kensei thought he was.
Kensei nodded again. "Fair enough. You already said you didn't want to talk about it, I shouldn't pry."
"There is something I wouldn't mind talking about," Shuhei said. "Your article. I really liked it."
To his surprise, Kensei blushed lightly at the compliment. "Thank you for saying so. I wasn't sure if it would be well-received. For some reason, no one in the division even seemed to care what I was working on."
"Force of habit," Shuhei replied. "Tousen never liked talking about his articles."
"I see."
They talked about Kensei's article, then the topic shifted to Shuhei's articles and how he might attract more readers, then they talked about the magazine in general. Somehow, at some point, the conversation turned to Kensei's stories about the real world, a subject that Shuhei was very interested in. Before Shuhei knew it they had spent over two hours at the restaurant just talking. Once it was dark they decided to call it quits, then walked back to the barracks together. They stopped in front of Shuhei's quarters to say goodbye.
"Hopefully you feel a little bit better about. . . whatever was on your mind," Kensei said.
Shuhei nodded. "It was a good distraction. Thanks. I don't know the last time I spent so long just talking with someone."
"I'm glad," Kensei said. "I really enjoyed myself with you today."
"I did, too," Shuhei admitted, a little surprised by that fact. Kensei had been remarkably easy to talk to. Maybe it was because they had gotten used to each other, but it was certainly a contrast to the short, awkward conversations they used to have. "You're pretty fun to hang out with, Kensei."
Kensei smiled at the use of his given name. "You are too, Shuhei."
And, before Shuhei even realized how close they were, Kensei kissed him. Shocked beyond belief, he just stood there with his eyes wide open and his lips shut tight. After a moment of non-response Kensei drew away. The expression on his face turned from confusion to realization to embarrassment as he looked at Shuhei.
"I'm so sorry, Hisagi," he finally said, staring to the side a little. "I completely misread the situation. This is all my fault, I hope it isn't too awkward for you."
Shuhei couldn't do much other than stand there. Finally he broke himself out of his daze and shook his head. "No, umm, it's fine."
"Again," Kensei said, "I apologize."
"It's fine," Shuhei repeated. "Just forget it."
Kensei nodded. "Of course. Well, I'll be going now."
Now it was Shuhei's turn to nod. They both turned at the same time, Kensei to walk down the engawa that connected their quarters, Shuhei to go inside. As Shuhei closed the door behind him his fingers reached up to touch still-moist lips.
What the hell had that been?
Third Division Headquarters, Vice-Captain's Office
"Everyone loves him," Kira said, head in his hands as he sat hunched over behind his desk. "Everyone instantly loves him. 'What a great captain,' they say, 'why wasn't he promoted earlier?' And here I am still doing most of the captain's duties, until he gets a handle on things."
"You know, Kira," Shuhei said, "it wouldn't hurt to look at the glass as half-full every now and then."
Kira sighed. "I guess so. At least he's doing a good job, especially for someone who's just been thrown into things."
"That's the spirit. Where is Abarai, anyway?"
"Meeting with the seated officers individually so he get to know them and their duties. Apparently he's a hands-on type of captain."
"Seems like something he would do," Shuhei said. Then, after thinking about it a few seconds, "Plus he's probably trying to recruit members for the inevitable third division futsal team. You know, if he moves around divisions enough, he might just eventually get that league he's always wanted."
Kira snickered at that. "Yeah."
"And now you have no excuse for not hanging out with us more often. We can actually go to a haiku gathering together for the first time in. . . wait, was it before the winter war?"
"I think so, actually," Kira said with a frown. "Well, I promise to go with you to the next one. How are things in your division? Is there some kind of weird tension between you and Muguruma-taichou, or is that just my imagination? I thought the two of you had worked out your problems."
Shuhei shifted in his chair a little. It's true things had been just a tiny bit awkward between them, but he was confident that the feeling would disappear soon enough. He suspected that it was mostly his fault, because he hadn't been able to forget what had happened between them just yet. On the contrary, the kiss had lingered in his mind since that day, and because of it he had been noticing different things about Kensei. How handsome the man actually was, how defined his muscles were, all the small things he did for even the unseated officers in the division.
"He kissed me," Shuhei admitted. "He kissed me and I haven't been able to forget about it."
"Huh," Kira said. "I wasn't expecting that. But that's good, right? Maybe you can stop sleeping with Abarai-kun and start an actual relationship with someone."
Shuhei's eyes widened as every other muscle froze. "You. . . knew?"
Kira gave him an incredulous look. "What, that you two have been sleeping together since our academy days? Yeah, I mean, you guys aren't exactly discreet about it. Plus there's the way you look at him when you don't think anyone is looking at you. Not exactly subtle."
Shuhei could feel his cheeks flush. He couldn't believe that Kira had known all this time. . . he guessed there had been no point in keeping it a secret. He wondered if Momo knew too. Well, at least he had someone to talk to now. "I just feel so pathetic. I was in love with Renji this whole time, then as soon as someone else shows even a little bit of interest in me I get interested in him. I'm like one of those awful people who need to have a new boyfriend or girlfriend lined up before they dump their old one."
"Now who's being gloomy and pessimistic," Kira said. "There's nothing wrong with looking at your options. Especially when the one you've been choosing this whole time hasn't exactly been healthy."
Shuhei frowned. "You don't think it's healthy?"
"I think you should stop sleeping with Renji," Kira replied. "It's only hurting you. Forget about Muguruma-taichou for now, you can deal with him later. But this thing with Abarai-kun has gone on for too long. Sleeping with someone you love when you know they don't love you. . . it's not good for you. You have to stop."
"You say that like it's so easy."
"Why isn't it?" Kira asked.
Shuhei didn't answer, just frowned some more. It had been going on for so long, and it wasn't all bad. At least he got to be intimate with the man he loved. And Renji was kind and considerate to him, even though it did hurt every time he mentioned Byakuya.
"I'll think about it," Shuhei said, even as he realized Kira was right.
They talked for awhile after that, about various things, and then Shuhei headed back to his office. He knew that Kira was right. He had always known it, somewhere deep inside of him. Pining over an unrequited love was bad enough. Adding a loveless physical relationship to the mix just made things even worse. It only let him delude himself into thinking that there was something between them, that there might be something between them in the future.
When he got back to headquarters, Shuhei wasn't surprised to find Kensei's door half-open and two voices coming out of it. When he got closer, however, he was a little surprised to hear what was being spoken.
"You don't belong here anymore." It was Love's voice, and this wasn't the surprising part. "This place has changed. The people have changed. You belong back with us, Kensei."
Shuhei assumed that it was just a variation of Love's usual plea. What surprised him was what Kensei said in response.
"Maybe you're right."
Shuhei started at that. He had recently decided that, given how often Love had come to persuade Kensei to no avail, Kensei wasn't interested in going back. It's true that, at the moment, Shuhei felt a bit awkward around Kensei, but this and that were two different things. Kensei was a good captain. The ninth division members were already warming up to him. If he left now, it would be a huge detriment to the division and to the Gotei 13. Shuhei made a decision and stepped into the room.
"Excuse me," he said. "I didn't mean to interrupt, but I overheard your conversation and had to say my piece. Taichou, if you're happier in the human world, then you should go back. But for what it's worth, I appreciate your presence here in the ninth division. I'm happy to have you as my captain and I know that other division members feel the same."
Love and Kensei blinked up at Shuhei for several moments before Kensei spoke.
"Thank you, Hisagi," he said. "That means a lot to me."
Shuhei nodded before leaving again. He spent the rest of the day doing miscellaneous tasks before retiring to the barracks. When he got to his quarters, he was surprised to find Renji in his bed, sprawled out with his hands covering his face.
"I did something really stupid," he said.
"Spit it out," Shuhei replied, a little curious as to what Renji considered 'really stupid.'
"I kissed Byakuya."
What was with people randomly kissing other people recently, Shuhei wondered. "I take it that it didn't go well."
"No," Renji groaned.
"Scoot over," Shuhei said, as he climbed into bed beside Renji.
They lay there for a little bit, staring at the ceiling and feeling sorry for themselves in their respective ways. Renji was the one who broke the silence.
"Wanna fuck?" he asked.
Shuhei hesitated before he finally answered. "Not really."
"Okay."
The stayed in their positions for several more moments before Shuhei mustered up the resolve to do what he was going to do next. He turned over onto his side, eyes taking in Renji's handsome profile.
"Abarai," he said, "did you come here for sex just because you were feeling sorry for yourself after what happened with Kuchiki-taichou?"
"Yeah."
"You're such an ass."
Renji turned to blink at Shuhei in confusion. "Sorry?"
Shuhei shook his head. "No, sorry, that was too harsh. You're just an idiot. It's my fault, really, for letting this go on, even though I knew where we both stood on things. It's not healthy for either one of us."
"What are you talking about?" Renji asked, looking even more lost than before.
"We should stop sleeping together," Shuhei said. "It's not healthy for either one of us. If you're really in love with Kuchiki-taichou, you should be working on your relationship with him instead of doing this with me."
Renji looked like he was pouting a little bit, but he agreed soon enough. "If that's what you think is best, Hisagi-san."
Shuhei nodded. It was odd, but he felt a little bit better after drawing this new line between them. "What happened after you kissed Kuchiki-taichou, anyway?"
"Oh, he gave me about a thirty-minute long lecture. Scolded me about how there are 'proper avenues of courtship' that we both had to pursue, and how we couldn't go around just kissing people willy nilly."
Shuhei couldn't help shoot Renji an incredulous glare. For someone who could be so perceptive sometimes, Renji could also be a huge idiot. Maybe that's what insecurities did to you.
"Abarai," Shuhei said, "you really are a huge idiot."
"Huh?" Renji asked, confused once again.
"He didn't say he didn't like it. He just said you guys had to take it slow. Basically."
Renji's eyes lit up at the revelation. "Really?"
"Yeah."
Renji all but leapt out of bed, energy instantly returning. "Oh, man, that's so great. Maybe I should go talk to Rukia about what these 'proper avenues of courtship' are. Look, I'm gonna go, but I'll see you later, okay?"
"Good luck," Shuhei replied.
With Renji gone, Shuhei sighed and sank back down onto his bed. He felt tired. It hadn't been a relationship with Renji, but it certainly felt like the end of one. He was completely drained. Drained and despondent and feeling like he was facing a completely new chapter of his life. With half-hearted movements Shuhei got out of bed, cooked himself dinner, than went to sleep.
Ninth Division Headquarters, Conference Room
Shuhei made his way into the conference room, not surprised to see that Kensei was the only one there. He was early, after all. He took a seat and laid his notes and papers out, ready to discuss articles for the next edition with the articles editors.
"Hisagi," Kensei said, interrupting the short silence between them. "I told Love that I won't be returning to the human world, and that I would have him physically escorted out if he ever asked me again. The ninth division has always been my home. Even if it's changed, I enjoy it here."
"I'm happy to hear that," Shuhei said.
Kensei didn't say anything else, which was fine with Shuhei. He wasn't sure what he would do if Kensei brought up the kiss or did something like ask him out on a date. The end of his non-relationship with Renji had left Shuhei feeling a bit bereft. The last thing he needed now was to be caught up in a new relationship; he needed some time for just himself, first, before he became involved with someone else. Before he even considered an emotional relationship with someone else, especially someone like Kensei, who deserved to be more than just a rebound. Maybe, one day, Shuhei would be ready. . . and maybe, if he was lucky, on that day Kensei would still be around and interested.
Kensei looked up at him then, offering him a small, tentative smile. Shuhei stopped chewing on his pen for enough time to smile back.
And maybe, he thought, that day wouldn't be too far in the future.
- 1
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The Art of the Non-Relationship