Remembering the Innocence

 

A very big thank you to purple13098, Cuzosu, Anaris, and Minami Okita for reviewing, as well as everyone who is following this story!

Juushiro's back!

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There was brightness; flickering, soft light, swimming in and out of focus in front of his eyes. Wincing at the tightness of his throat, Juushiro blinked. He was surprised to find himself on his back, immediately recognizing the familiar softness of his own mattress.

"Senpai."

Blinking again to clear his vision, Juushiro turned to see Kisuke sitting cross-legged next to his bed. The blond-haired man did not say anything else, but Juushiro saw a gleam of relief in those grey eyes.

"How long..." Juushiro's voice came out raspy, his throat dry and sore from coughing. His mouth held the bitter aftertaste of dried blood. Before he could ask for water, a pair of hands brought a cup to his mouth. He looked up gratefully at Kisuke, who simply smiled at him in encouragement. Sitting up, Juushiro wrapped his trembling fingers around the small cup, sighing at the comforting warmth in his hand.

"One hundred years, and they haven't cured you," Kisuke said dryly.

Juushiro sipped in silence, letting the strong taste of herbs wash away the last traces of the disgusting, metallic tang of blood from his mouth. He smiled inwardly at Kisuke's thoughtfulness and wondered how the man knew to use this tea; he always kept a tin of this on his shelf specially for these...occasions, and he was under the impression that only his old friend, Shunsui, knew about it.

As if he could read Juushiro's mind, Kisuke glanced towards the kitchen. "I assumed you would be well prepared," he said. "You were out for just a little over half an hour."

"I'm sorry for the trouble," Juushiro said apologetically as he placed the tea cup on the floor.

"Nonsense," Kisuke said, waving his hand dismissively. I'm glad you're okay.

Feeling self-conscious, Juushiro's hand went to his face to wipe his mouth, but to his surprise, his hand came away clean. In fact, his hand was clean; there was not a single spot of blood on his pale, graceful fingers.

"I hope you don't mind..." Kisuke said, his face suddenly boyish from awkwardness. He gestured to a small bucket against the wall, a piece of blood-smeared cloth lay folded on the rim.

Juushiro blushed, and his fists clenched subconsciously. Why am I always such a bother to people around me? he thought, more than a little frustrated. He was a powerful and much revered captain, but whenever his illness struck, he was as helpless as a child, and he hated that with a passion. His cheeks burned even more as he realized that his robe, too, was spotless; it appeared that Kisuke had explored more than the kitchen.

"I'm so sorry," Juushiro said, his voice trembling slightly. Pathetic. I'm such a—

Kisuke moved closer and laid a reassuring hand on the older man's shoulder. "Please," he said gently. "There is nothing to apologize for."

So warm, Juushiro marveled. Kisuke's palm was...surprisingly smooth for someone who was so skilled a swordsman. Perhaps he had not used his sword much after... His heart ached a little. What else have we stripped from this man?

Kisuke's touch lingered for just a heartbeat longer, then he reached for the tea cup. "I'll get you more tea," he said. Juushiro watched as the man stood up and walked to the kitchen. His steps were graceful but firm, his lean frame radiating a sense of confidence that was reassuring yet foreign to Juushiro. Why am I so surprised? Juushiro chided himself. After all, this was the man who groomed Kurosaki Ichigo, the man who set up the Tenka Kecchu, and the only man powerful enough to seal away Aizen. I need to stop thinking of him as the gangly, quiet young man that he was.

Juushiro smiled as the blonde returned to hand him a full cup of tea. "Do you need to leave? Don't let me keep you," Juushiro said, aware that it must be well into the night by now.

"I'm not in a hurry," Kisuke said, sitting back down and crossed his legs. He looked around the room, taking in the simple decoration and potted plants. "This is a very relaxing place," he commented.

"Yes," Juushiro agreed. "Unfortunately for my subordinates, I tend to spend more time resting here than being at the office as I should."

Kisuke chuckled good-naturedly. "I see the adoration in their eyes when they look at you," he said, referring to the 3rd and 4th seats in Juushiro's division.

"Ah, Kiyone and Sentaro," Juushiro said fondly. "They will be death of me." Despite his words, his eyes lit up at the thought of his loyal subordinates.

"You are fortunate," Kisuke replied. He rested an elbow on his thigh and placed his cheek against the open palm.

Juushiro noted the faraway look in the younger man's eyes and wondered what was going on in that brilliant mind. But in a blink of an eye, those grey eyes became alert and bright once more. Are you secretly reminiscing after all, Kisuke? Juushiro's eyes wandered to Kisuke's clothes and noticed for the first time how similar it was to a captain's haori. Coincidence?

Lost in his thoughts, Juushiro's eyes became half-lidded, and he suddenly realized that he was bone-tired. It was always like this after an attack; he usually required two or three days' rest before he could get back on his feet. Feeling dispirited at his own condition, he breathed a soft sigh.

"You should sleep," Kisuke said, uncurling his legs to stand up.

Juushiro sat up and grimaced when he felt his sleeping kimono stick to his skin, damp from the cold sweat he must have shed during the attack. "Not before I take a bath," he said, making a face.

He propped himself up on his palms and attempted to stand up. He smiled triumphantly when he managed to lift his upper body off the mattress. But, as he began to put his weight on his legs, they suddenly folded under him, and he toppled backwards.

Once again he felt his shoulders enveloped by a pair of strong hands as Kisuke caught him. Juushiro's cheeks colored in shame, and he clenched his jaw in frustration.Weak! Pathetic!

Gently laying Juushiro back down on his mattress, Kisuke gave the captain a reassuring squeeze on the shoulders before standing up. Juushiro watched inquiringly as the man picked up the small bucket by the wall and disappeared into the bathroom. Suddenly realizing what this meant, Juushiro's cheeks flared. Surely he doesn't intend to—

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To be continued...

Next chapter will definitely have to be M. ;)