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Flying
By : koorineko
Category: Bleach > Yaoi - Male/Male > Ukitake/Shunsui
Views: 1969 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0Disclaimer: Bleach does not belong to me, and I make no money from this work of fiction. - Chapter List
Title: Flying Warnings: Major spoiler alert for Fake Karakura Town/Arrancar Arc!!! A/N: A friend linked me Apocalyptica feat Gavin Rossdale "End of me" and this little thing possibly exploded in my head. Fills the suspension square for kink-bingo April challenge at dreamwidth. - - - - - The pain was instantanious and sharper than any bout of illness Jyuushiro had ever experienced. Not even the sharpened end of a zanpakuto could compare to the agony caused by that hand piercing his lungs, his spine arching to remove his body from the boy behind him. Wonderweiss just looked at him as he lost his footing, the ground approaching, those curious eyes burning into his back as Jyuushiro felt life fading away. He heard a faint yell and time seemed to stop as he looked at the town coming closer and closer. Wind whipped in his haori, his hair flowing in white waves around his head. For a ridiculously long moment peace descended on him and he had the urge to just relax into the flow, feeling weightless against the air rushing by. Smiling around the pain, he just had time to think "This is nice" before he hit the ground with a resounding crack, the world breaking into black.The next thing Ukitake saw was the white washed ceiling above his bed. The room smelled of antiseptics and newly washed linen. Fourth division's barracks. His entire body was hurting, breath rasping out of a chest so abused he wondered how he was still alive. His arms burned and shivered with the strain of breathing and he felt the faint taste of blood on his tongue. A violent cough wracked his body and he curled into a fetal position to guard against the pain. Tears streamed down his cheeks and he would have screamed if he had had enough air. Then a soft hand started combing back the white strands from his face, an equally soft cloth wiping the blood from his chin and lips. Jyuushiro just whimpered, still curled in on himself, eyes screwed shut, unable to open. The hand on his face kept gently caressing, fingers moving over his cheek, towards his hairline, a random pattern across his skin.
"Sshh. Try to relax, Jyuushiro-chan. I know it hurts, but Unohana-san will be here soon." Kyuuraku Shunsui's voice drifted over his mind, accompanied by the other captain's presence. There was something in that barely controlled power that had Jyuushiro looking up at his friend, eyes taking in the tired lines on the face, the worry etched into the grey eyes looking back. "You should also be relaxing, Kyuuraku-taichou. You took a hard hit yourself." If he could have moved, Ukitake would have laughed at Shunsui's guilty expression at hearing Unuhana's comment, but another coughing fit rendered him speechless. When he got control back over his body, he rolled over on his back, helped by the other two captains. "What happened, Unohana-san?" Even to himself he sounded rather pathetic. He sighed in relief as green light streamed from the woman's hands, the pain ebbing away, fading into a muted ache. "You almost got killed by the child Arrancar, and your friend was hit by that Espada's Cero at point blank range. You are both lucky to be alive." "What of the others?" Ukitake just smiled as Shunsui asked the question he himself dreaded. "Everyone is mostly in the clear. Some are still unconscious, but not in danger."The days after he was released from the fourth division's barracks, Ukitake had a hard time relaxing and concentrating on his work. Most of the pain was gone, but there was a restlessness in his bones that nothing he did could remove, no matter how hard he pushed himself in training or how long he spent contemplating the ripples on the pond or butchering his bonsai trees. He dreamed about the fall almost every night, that moment of peace as he was suspended in the air haunting him. Sometimes, the pain of the child Arrancar's hand would be there, but the feeling of bliss as wind rushed him was a constant. And when he woke up, the bliss would shatter and longing would settle in his chest instead. He really shouldn't have been shocked when midday on the 17 th day since Aizen's capture, a steady hand gripped his collar and dragged him under protests to the back of the 8 th division's compound, snickers from lower ranked shinigami silenced by a glare from Kyuuraku.
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