Two Shades Left of Innocent

***A Shun/Nanao One-shot***

Whew. This is dark. And a little twisted.

What can I say? I was in a mood….

Enjoy!

Shunsui Kyouraku found himself in some grimy little town of Rukongai.

The whole area was pieced together with planks of wood and logs, plastic tarps for roofs, garbage piled in the walkways.

Everything was covered in dust, too, which made breathing in the dry, hot air extra miserable.

He walked in utter silence. Only the ruffling sounds of trash in the wind, the flap of his haori, soft footsteps. It was like a ghost town, without a soul in sight. He was keenly aware of his surrounding, though, because he was far from being alone. As he followed the touch of his wayward lieutenant's reiatsu, he kept careful watch on the souls around him. Peeking, wary eyes watching him from broken windows and hiding places.

Hiding from his presence, most likely.

Shinigami were feared, and sometimes vehemently hated, in these outer districts.

He came to a stop outside a hovel, eyeing it intently. It was thrown together with sheet metal and blocks, tucked back into the shadows. This specific place seemed steeped in a murky ambiance. It slithered down his spine with icy fingers, reaching into him and grabbing his attention. He didn't bother to hide the twist of distaste from his lips. There was undeniably a sordid past here. The sense of bloodshed and pain was heavy in the air, like phantoms of old battlefields lurking about.

He brushed all that negativity aside, though. Because as much as his crawling skin was telling him to move on, this awful building in particular was the reason he had come in the first place. This pitiful dwelling was the one that pulsed with Nanao's turbulent reiatsu.

His feet didn't want to move forward. Mostly because he didn't want to know what connection this house had to do with Nanao-chan. She was lovely and brilliant, solid and proud. Moonshine over still waters.

Everything this place was not. She didn't belong here among these shadows.

The crash of the door slamming open startled him enough to hiss in a surprised breath. A girl tore out of the dwelling. Stunned by her appearance, he wound up with an armful of terrified youth. Her short dark hair was matted and her eyes frantic, dried blood caked to her pale limbs. She started shoving at his chest immediately.

"Whoa, easy there," He had caught her out of reflex, thinking she needed help, or was hurt. But before he could even ask, she started to struggle in earnest. She fought him like a wild animal, kicking and biting, spitting hateful curses at him. Turning feral in the blink of an eye.

"Let me go! Let me go! Letgotgoletgo!" she screamed, thrashing.

"Okay, okay. Just take it easy," he tried to soothe. She wasn't listening though, still fighting for her life. Inconsolable and out of her mind, he was forced to release her. Afraid he would cause more harm trying to restrain her movements if he didn't.

Once freed, she darted past him so quickly, hardly sparing him a second glance. She was fleeing with a single-minded focus on bare feet as she ran down the dirt packed road in the opposite direction.

He blinked in further surprise, as he noticed for the first time the sloppy shinigami uniform she wore. It was haphazardly thrown together, too big on her adolescent frame. Untucked and unbelted, held shut by her white-knuckled hands. She ran like the fires of hell were at her heels, disappearing around the corner before he could even process the sight of her in those black robes.

There, and then gone just as quick.

He absently righted his clothing where she had torn at him, ignoring the burn of fingernail scratches, and turned his head back to face the door again. He stared hard at the entrance, wanting to go in there even less after the sight of the little girl. She had been terrified, desperate to get away.

Gods, she was just a kid, too.

Worse, her features vaguely resembled Nanao's at that age. The slight frame, short dark hair and with those big, expressive eyes.

He laid a hand on the hilt of his Zanpakutō. It helped focus his priorities. He wanted to follow the girl, to make sure she was alright. Help her if he could. But he doubted she would be receptive anyways.

And terrified youths aside, his lieutenant was still in there. Because, hells bells, Nanao's reiatsu vibrated with an erratic rhythm that set his teeth on edge. Churning in turmoil, it had drawn him out like a moth to the flame. It was as effective as a distress beacon, pulling him to her location with such magnetic force. He had blindly followed it to this spot, too powerless to ignore its call. She hadn't been reaching out to him, of course. Rather, he had been keeping track of her on while she went on patrol, as per usual.

Without a further thought, he raised a hand and pushed through. Rusty hinges creaked as the door swung open to reveal a darkened, single room torn to absolute pieces. Remnants of furniture strewn about, broken glass, blood smears on almost everything. There was a powerful stench, something unmistakably unclean and unwashed, proof of disgusting living habits for many years. That, laced with the copper smell of blood loss and hints of smoke.

In the middle of all of the chaos, was a barely recognizable corpse. It was a man, or he thought so anyways. It was rather hard to tell. The face was so swollen and mottled with discoloration, limbs broken in unnatural angles. Some parts missing all together. It had clearly been a painful and lasting death. He had experienced enough dying in his line of work to tell these things. And this man had suffered severely.

Discarding the corpse as part of the scenery, he went on cataloging the room meticulously. Scanning quickly, he took note of every little detail in a matter of seconds.

There was a cot in one corner that had a chain fixed to the frame. The sight of that chain and the girl who had fled this place moments ago, he didn't need to guess what its purpose had been. The metal links were melted at one end, having clearly been broken free. No doubt from kido, he could still feel the spice of Nanao's particular spells in the room.

Nanao herself was leaning back against the wall to the left as if she had been waiting for him. Head down, eyes to the floor, arms crossed loosely over her middle. She was still and silent, letting him process the sights that welcomed him.

From his spot in the doorway, he observed her a moment across the wreckage. Her lieutenant's badge was laying on the floor in a careless tangle, and she was dressed only in the thin, white juban of her uniform. Clearly, that explained where the girl in the alley had come by a shinigami uniform. He wouldn't let his mind wonder too far in that direction, because between the chains on the cot and the frightened girl's need for clothing, it was easy to figure why Nanao had parted with half her uniform.

Besides, he had more pressing things to work out. His usually pristine lieutenant was splattered with blood, for one.

Well, 'splattered' was probably not the right term. That seemed to imply small amounts, which wasn't the case at all. Nanao was more or less just covered in it. She looked like something out of a bad dream, an avenging angel done with her work. Luminously pale with red decorating her as she calmly leaned against the wall. Looking for all the world as if she were comfortable with all this.

The sight of her, so disheveled and just all…not Nanao, caused his possessive nature to stir. He moved toward her, needing to be close, to see she was alright. Picking his way carefully through the room, watching where he put every step among the gore, he saw her agitation. It was hardly noticeable, but her slender shoulders stiffened the closer he got.

Coming to a stop in front of her, he saw no obvious signs of an injury. The only wounds seemed to be on her hands, her knuckles split and bruised under the red smears that ran up her forearms and splashed across the pale skin of her neck and face. With her gaze cast down still, she studiously avoided meeting his eyes.

"Nanao?" he said, gently.

"Sir."

"Are you alright?"

"I'm not hurt," Nanao whispered, her voice sounding hollow to his ears.

"The blood?"

"Not mine."

"What's happened here?" he asked calmly, gaze skimming over her whole body searching for any other injury, but it seemed she was truthful about not being hurt. He relaxed several degrees. Her glasses were missing, though. Glancing about, he didn't see them anywhere nearby, either. Perhaps they'd been lost in the…well, whatever it was she had done to the man behind him. He focused back on her, realizing she hadn't answered him yet. "Nanao-chan?"

"I can't…" her arms tightening around herself and he felt her reiatsu flinch. Shunsui took a step closer in reaction.

"Can't, what?"

"Why did you come here?" she asked instead.

"You were upset," he said, as if it explained everything. "You're talking as if you thought I wouldn't come. Surely you know me better than that?"

She didn't answer, but he reached a tentative hand out anyways. She jerked her arm away from his grasp before he could touch her. He froze, watching her intently, but she still didn't look up, didn't even raise her head from where it hung miserably.

"You shouldn't have come here. I didn't…gods, anyone but you." Impossibly, she seemed to hunch into herself even more.

"Anyone but me?" he questioned, offended. Something had lurched painfully in his chest at those words.

"I just…I needed a minute before I could face you about…this." She waved a negligent hand at the room in general.

Nanao bit down on her lips, wishing things weren't where they were now. She wished he hadn't come, not yet. Hell, not ever. She needed a moment to come to terms with the line she had crossed. She wasn't ready for her Captain's disgust at her, and probably never would be ready for such a thing. Her arms tightened around her middle, feeling as if she was holding her own self together suddenly.

She wasn't ready for him to realize what a monster she was capable of being. He was the only one in the world who treated her like she was valuable, like she was someone worthwhile. She had thrived on his high regard of her for years, taking strength from his pride in her. He was her backbone, lending her the confidence she lacked in herself.

She hated to see that fade, but knew it would now.

"Nanao-chan, just tell me what this is," he coaxed when the silence went on too long. He watched as she swiped at her cheeks, and realized with utter shock that she was crying. In all the years he had known her, Nanao had never shed a tear in his presence.

"I'm so sorry," a quiet sob chocked off her words, and he didn't hesitate to grab her elbows to steady her as she swayed on wobbly legs. She struggled weakly, but he pulled her to him anyways, wrapping his arms around her tightly.

"Nanao, easy, just breathe sweetheart. Shh," he said, feeling her tremble against him. Her hair was partially undone and damp with sweat and blood, but he laid his chin on top regardless, tightening his hold on her, offering his wordless support.

"You'll get it on you. The blood…there's so much…" she argued, but he didn't miss how her hands fisted in his clothing. Pulling him tighter instead of pushing him away.

"That hardly matters," he assured. He felt the hot slide of her new tears against his neck.

Several moments passed, where he murmured encouraging words and calming nonsense in her ear. She was breaking his heart with those silent tears.

After she seemed to calm a bit, he started rubbing a pattern over her back, brushing the hair from her face, loosening his arms to give a softer embrace.

"That's it, Nanao. It's alright now."

He felt her breath shudder from her slight body against him. "Nothing is right at all."

"I'll make it alright, then. Shh," he whispered, rocking her just slightly where they stood. He ran his hands over her in gentle caresses, feeling the trembles in her lessen as he did.

Eventually, after a small eternity, she slowly quieted, tears drying up as she let him hold her, going limp against him.

He continued the caresses, waiting patiently for her to gather her thoughts and explain things to him.

"I resign my post," she mumbled, and he jerked as if she had slapped him.

That certainly wasn't what he had been expecting to hear. Lifting his head to stare blankly at the top of her head, he didn't know if he should laugh or yell.

"Why would you say that?" he managed, much more reasonable than he felt after such a ridiculous statement. He spared a glance at the armband on the floor, feeling his irritation rise. She so casually tossed it away?

"I can't be…I broke laws, Captain. And…you'll hate me for what I've done…"

He stilled. Is that why the crying? Not for what she did, but the thought of losing him over it? He smiled a humorless smile. She had a lot to learn about him, he realized. He forgot at times how young she was.

"That's impossible. I can't think of anything that would make me ever hate you, Nanao-chan. Who's the man on the floor behind me?"

Thrown by the sudden question, but compelled by the command in his tone, she answered, "I…I killed him."

"I figured as much. Can you explain this to me?"

"I was just…I mean, I wasn't looking for him. I stumbled across him on my patrol. He…he had a little girl."

"I saw the girl. You helped her?" he asked, prompting her to go on.

She was shaking again, but nodded in affirmation to his question. Her battered fingers still twisted in his clothing, though. For reassurance or stability, he wasn't sure.

"Who was she? Someone you know? Is that what this was?"

"No, I don't know her."

Finally, finally, she lifted her eyes to his. He saw her dusky sadness, plain as day her eyes.

"I wasn't even thinking straight. I just…" she swallowed, looking ashamed. "Captain, I tore him to shreds."

He nodded slowly, as the puzzle started to fall together a bit.

"Listen to me, Nanao. I don't care that you killed that man. That's not even the issue. Understand me, okay?"

She met his gaze but didn't respond to that. If anything, she looked even more miserable, more lost. He frowned stormily at her.

"I don't care that you killed him. Say that you know that, Nanao. I need to hear it," he said firmly.

"I understand," she answered quietly.

"Good. Because that's not the problem. Okay? Not at all. I get that you found a situation that moved you to execute him, and you took action. The problem is that it wasn't a clean death, Nanao. You've been taught better than this. To not let emotions rule your thoughts when engaging. While you took your time with that scumbag, someone could have snuck up on you. You let your guard down to focus on making it last, and that's unacceptable to me. I refuse to risk you over something so easily prevented. On top of that, I know your style, and this isn't it. There's more going on here, am I right? I need to know what drove this behavior and I need absolute honesty, Nanao, so we can take care of it."

She opened her mouth to deny it, but caught herself. He was too perceptive to lie to, anyways.

Shunsui watched as she waged some internal war, struggling to decide what she should say or do. "Nanao, just start at the beginning."

"I was on patrol," she began hesitantly.

"Go on."

"I…I wasn't looking for him. He was just there, and…and so I followed him..."

"Wait," he stopped her, confused. She knew this man, then? "Who is he?"

"I don't know any names," she said, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes.

"Okay, sweetheart. Okay. That's not important anyhow. Tell me what happened next. You followed him here?"

"Yes."

"Why did you think to follow him?" he wondered. She dropped her hands but didn't answer, and the stubborn set of her jaw told him she didn't intend to, either. He pressed on ahead, planning to come back to that, "Never mind that, then. You followed him here. Then what?"

"He had the girl…" she said wretchedly, looking at some point over his shoulder.

He nodded tightly in response to her trailing answer. "Alright. What happened next?"

"I killed him. Slowly," she said, her tone cold in a way he had never heard from her. It sent a jolt across his nerve endings, recognizing that tone.

"Tell me why you needed to do that," he asked, voice low.

She met his eyes again, with her pretty, luminous face flecked with spots of blood, black hair falling around her hard eyes, she took his breath away suddenly. He wondered how twisted it made him that this wrathful version of Nanao was a turn on. Something that spoke to him on a soul level, calling out to his own punishing nature.

"He's dead. And he can't hurt anyone else ever again. It doesn't really matter how he died, does it?" she turned her gaze away, trying to hide whatever truth she kept from him.

He lifted a hand and tipped her head up with a finger under her chin. She was forced to meet his eyes again. There was no defeat in her now, only hot anger. "I broke the law. That's all that really matters."

"No. It doesn't matter to me how he died, Nanao. All I want is to know what drove this behavior from you?"

Her lips thinned at his words. His beautiful little lieutenant had such a dark and deadly air about her right now, one that surprised him, but intrigued him just as much. Every year they spent at each other's side brought more understanding of one another. Slow discoveries into pasts, thoughts, reactions, strengths and weaknesses. Little by little, they crawled under each other's skin a bit more. Uncovering so many new pieces along the way.

This was one of those moments.

As he stared into her violet depths, he could feel those fresh ties forming between them, adding to the multitude that were already in place. He could sense the shifting of roles and regards, the strange pull between them.

"Nothing drove it," she whispered. "It's already done anyways. He's dead, he can't come back. What more is there to know?"

"You obviously had your reasons, but I've already told you I don't care about that man being dead. I don't care about your need to make him suffer, either. I agree on both accounts. However, that's not like you to want to inflict pain. I could expect it from others, but not you. You have never been one to dish out abuse like this. Whatever it was that motivated you to such extremes...that is what I want to work through. That is what I'm asking for, Nanao-chan. I need to know where your head is."

"I…" she stalled out on her explanation, biting down on her lips.

"You can tell me anything. You'll get no judgment from me, sweetheart."

"It's not judgment I'm worried about."

"Then what?"

Pity, she thought, but never answered out loud. Because that's the last thing she wanted. She would rather endure the shame and punishment of an unexplained murder than his pity.

"Nanao. Pretend for a moment you came across this scene with another member of our squad who never showed any signs of such behavior before. How would you handle it?"

"I…I'd be required to have a psych evaluations done by the 4th," she answered automatically, before his manipulation sank in. "Oh."

"Convince me you don't need that," he plead. "Just talk to me."

She remained silent, irritating him to no end. He dropped his hand and glanced around the blood-splattered room, and Nanao's gaze followed suit. She winced, realizing for the first time just how…out of hand things had gotten.

"I went too far," she murmured, stepping back from her Captain's warmth to lean back against the wall again. Her knees suddenly felt weak. It was a drastic change from the charge of energy she had had earlier when she found the man. At the time, she had felt a cold fire burning through her, torching every rational thought she had to ash. She hadn't thought about anything then, not her job or how her Captain might feel about her actions. She hadn't considered the ramifications of what she was doing while she was doing it. The only thing that mattered then was making him feel the pain.

"No, I don't believe that," he dismissed, turning back to face her. At her startled look, he smiled a smile that didn't reach his eyes and continued, "I think you did whatever it was you needed to do, Nanao. For whatever reason, you have something to resolve and this was how you did so. I need to have your honesty, now. I can't have you running around halfcocked, not knowing where your mind is. This kind of thing is dangerous."

"I don't have any issues," she argued, furrowing her brow at him. "I don't need a psych eval, it has nothing to do with me being unstable."

"I never said it did," he replied evenly.

"It was implied."

"I didn't mean it to sound that way," he placated.

"I'm not losing it!" she snapped. Somehow, him thinking she was nuts was worse than pity. "I didn't just flip out on some pervert. I…I know him. Knew him."

"How, Nanao?"

"He…" she swallowed and looked at her feet. "has a preference for dark haired little girls."

"What does…" her he trailed off, feeling strangled by the very air in the room when her meaning registered. Shunsui felt the last pieces of his heart crack under the weight of her words. "Nanao, gods…please don't."

"I'm not crazy. I didn't just loose it. I need you to know that," she said numbly. It was easier not having to see his face. "But I couldn't walk away. And I couldn't make it a clean death. That would have been too easy for him."

Cold. She felt cold, she distantly registered.

Even now, after the bastard had taken his last, rattling breath, she felt nothing else. Except empty, maybe.

She used to imagine finding him once she had become strong enough. And she stupidly used to believe that when she had put him in his grave she would feel some sort of release. Like maybe that piece of her past could be laid to rest.

She had been wrong. She felt no closure, she felt only this yawning depth inside herself.

Cursing vividly, Shunsui turned on his heel, pacing a few steps away from her, hands on his hips as he processed those words. Holy gods above, he wanted to kill something right now. All the gore in the room suddenly wasn't enough.

Nanao took in his rigid stance, the tick in his jaw, the hum of his reiatsu recoiling in and intensifying. She waited, wondering what would happen now. Wondering if it really mattered. She thought maybe she should just leave. Leave her Captain to his thoughts and the dead man to his hell.

Go somewhere, anywhere, that didn't have all these reminders of things long gone.

"So you found him tonight," Shunsui concluded after a small eternity.

His quiet voice startled her, and she focused back on him. "By accident, but yes. I found him. I had forgotten the exact location of this place…I was too young to remember." Nanao felt exposed, flayed open. Her fingers ached and she noticed she had been clenching her hands into fists. She released them stiffly, and unable to do much else, she continued her retelling. "I saw him in the crowd tonight, on patrol. I just…I couldn't walk away. And I then found the girl here…and I just…well, you can see what I did."

In his memories, he had no trouble calling up the young image of his lieutenant. The serious, melancholy child she had once been. There was a voice in his head screaming and fighting vehemently in denial to the things she had just told him. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly for a moment, his stomach roiling, before turning back to face her. His beautiful, tough little Nanao-chan. The girl who had stolen his heart so easily, the one who commanded his attention, who unknowingly had him so wrapped around her that nothing could possibly tear him away now.

She had become a part of him, a very important and vital part.

He looked at her closely now, grown into a woman, with her head bowed in shame, and wanted nothing more than to forget that this conversation ever happened. That someone would dare hurt her, this precious girl.

"Nanao, look at me," he commanded softly. She did, and it took the air from his lungs. It occurred to him then, in that moment when her lovely violet eyes were shinning with such deep-rooted hurt, that he suddenly understood her on a level he could have never reached in any other circumstance. Here, in the filth and destruction, with her at the center confessing to him, he felt the bond between them tighten to an unbreakable point. The distance between them evaporating at the honesty and stark truth in this afternoon, as he walked back to stand before her again.

He reached for her bruised, split hands and raised them to his lips. Brushing a kiss over her tender skin, he stared her straight in the eyes. "Come with me. Let's leave this place behind now."

"I thought…you would be ashamed of me," she admitted, dazed. "At what I'd done."

"There are exceptions to every rule. Are you ashamed of your actions?"

"Not…especially."

"Good enough for me," he said, reaching down to collect the lieutenants badge laying by their feet. Standing back up, he ran a thumb over the insignia, wiping the spot of blood away that had landed on it. "Even without an explanation, I would stand by your decision to take action or not, Nanao. I was only worried what brought it on. And, now I know. There's nothing more to talk about here."

"You trust me so much?" She watched him, stunned. How could he really be alright with this? How could he ever accept her back into his tiny circle of trust after such appalling conduct? Her eyes welled with tears again, and she blinked rapidly, embarrassed by them.

"More than you'll ever realize, most likely." He took her hands again and placed the badge in them, curling her fingers around it until it was secure in her grip. "Take this, and never say that you don't want it again."

The tears spilled over then. "I don't deserve this right now."

"You never stopped deserving this," he said sternly. "Let's go home."

"Just like that?" she asked, bewildered.

"Just like that."

"You really aren't upset?"

"Should I be?"

"I killed an unarmed civilian. There was no honor in what I did to him," she pointed out. He nodded his acknowledgment. Nanao stared, shocked, at the lack of disgust on his features. Didn't he care what she had done? There was laws against this kind of thing. Didn't he see how cruel she had been? The captain she knew would care, regardless of her reasons. Hell, if anything, it should have made him less likely to accept her back. That she would react so badly to something that offended her. "You asked earlier what I would have done if it were another member of the squad. Shouldn't you ask yourself the same thing?"

"Are you asking me to consider turning you in for this?" he clarified, holding her gaze. "If I condemn you for it?"

"You should," she whispered.

"I won't and I don't."

"But you should," she insisted, suddenly angry with him. She didn't want his understanding and compassion. This was all part of him pitying her, she figured. But she was in the wrong, and he needed to address that. She wanted him to look at this like she had assumed he would have: with horror at her actions. She wanted him to remind her of the rules and codes of conducts. Not pat her on the head because he felt bad for her. "You should hold me to the same standards you hold yourself to, don't you think? That man wasn't an enemy of our government. He wasn't a soldier of any sort. It was personal. Don't you dare tell me it's not an issue because it is, and I need you to acknowledge that."

"Why, Nanao?" he asked softly.

"Why? Because I'm counting on you to ground me again! Oh my god, I feel like something inside me just broke, just shattered, and I need you to help snap me out of it! To tell me how awful this is and wake me back up to the person I'm supposed to be! Because I don't feel…like I should. I just feel numb. That's why! Because I'm okay with this," she waved a battered hand to the mess around them, "and I certainly shouldn't be! Can't you see that?"

Shunsui regarded her calmly, realizing that Nanao was wanting some sort of punishment for this. She wanted something from him that he couldn't give, though.

He knew this woman, and trusted her actions. If she felt it needed done to help her heal, messy as it may have been, then it needed done. It was that simple to him. Didn't she understand? It was the same way she reacted to his decisions. Following him blindly, trusting in his choices. She never questioned his motives, only offered her support. Why couldn't she understand that the same went for him in regards to her?

"Say something," she begged, and he saw that her beautiful eyes were welling with tears again.

"Are you waiting for me to be angry with you, then?" he asked, reaching for her, but she moved away further still. He let his hand drop, offering her a sad smile. "Because I'm not. And I can't be. Not for this."

"What is wrong with you? How is this okay with you? I need you to be my Captain right now," she snapped, tears spilling over. "I don't want special treatment because of your silly little crush on me! None of that should matter right now. I want you to react to this the way you would with any other subordinate! Do you think forgiving me of this is the appropriate response?"

"Silly little crush," he murmured, darkly. He saw her spine stiffen at his tone. "Is that what you think?"

"Why else wouldn't you be angry?" she threw back, cautious of the shift in him, but too wound up to back down.

"You think I have a squeaky clean record, Nanao? You assume that I've never gone to such measures?" He stepped back into her personal space, crowding her back against the wall, where she couldn't run from him, towering over her much smaller frame.

She had to crane her neck to meet his unpredictable expression. It was one she'd never experienced from him. Wicked and penetrating, he had turned into a stranger in the blink of an eye. It was a little scary, if she were honest. Everything in her stood at alert suddenly, reacting to the danger pulsating around her.

"What are you talking about?" she managed around the dryness in her throat. "You've never done anything like this. You were just lecturing me about clean kills."

"Do you think I've never taken my time with an execution? I have, Nanao. I've played this game before. Many times, in fact," he said quietly, brushing a blood-matted lock of her hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. With the pad of his thumb, he wiped off the smudge it left behind on her pale skin.

"I find it hard to believe," she whispered, answering honestly. Although, from the shift in him, she could maybe believe it after all. There was something about him right now, sinful and alluring all at once. It wasn't just him here, she realized. There was an overlaying presence, one she had caught hints of over the years when he released his swords in battle. Like his true identity was rousing, rising and coming to the fore.

"Do you think so highly of me that it's never occurred to you that I've dealt death to my own personal demons? I've dealt out revenge, too, my Nanao-chan. I've strolled through the lifeblood of many," his eyes traveled down her thinly-clad body, splattered still with blood.

She felt suddenly, bizarrely, that what he was saying was that they had more in common because of it. That, or maybe he was just trying to scare her. She wasn't sure.

"You have," She breathed. It was meant to be a question, but it never sounded that way.

His gaze snapped back to hers and she saw something swirling just below the surface. Out of the corner of her eyes, which she couldn't seem to tear from his gaze, she saw shadows dancing on the walls. Moving and writhing on their own, with no catalyst. Except, maybe, her Captain's mood.

"Oh yes, I've dragged my blades a little slower across someone's flesh more times than you would think. I know the sweetness of enjoying a kill."

When he closed the gap, pressing their bodies just lightly together, Nanao wondered if she had lost her mind after all. Maybe she really did need a psych evaluation, because he was scaring the hell out of her right now, but her body was jolted by his touch as if by lightning. Gods, they were surrounded by death, iron and copper. And he was admitting to doing similar things as this, wrapping them in that common thread, appreciating her standing here in this chaos, covered in another man's blood.

She was drowning suddenly, overwhelmed with so many different emotions, she didn't know if she could handle it.

"You assumed much, Nanao-chan." His hand slid to the back of her neck, fingers tangling in the sweat-dampened hair at her nape. His lips skimmed her ear, confessing hotly, "Had you told me about this man sooner, I would have made it my personal mission to find him myself. And I promise you, I wouldn't have been as kind as you had been with him today."

"Kind?" she asked, in disbelief. At her own body, not his words. She felt fire and ice all over, tingling and eager, her lower abdomen clenching.

"Hm. The things I would have done would have made this mess seem very kind. How could I possibly condemn you? Not when I know how it would have looked when I was done. I adore a good game, after all."

When his lips skimmed over her jaw, Nanao thought for sure there was something very, very wrong with her right now. And hell, him too, for that matter. Were they discussing killing a man while he seduced her? She was trembling, lit up in awareness of where their bodies were touching. Excited and terrified, repelled and ready. She was so alive, so invigorated by him, her head was spinning.

It was disturbing and wrong and she hated it. Wanted to shove him away and pull him closer. She wanted to cower from this stranger, wanted to stand proudly at his attention. She was confused, unsure of who she was right now. Unsure of who the hell he was.

Nanao swallowed thickly, feeling like this afternoon had taken an unexpected turn somewhere. She had told him things she had never spoken of, she had laid herself bare, shamed her perfect record in the eyes of her supervisor by torturing a man to death. Had broken laws, acted dishonorably.

And he wasn't reacting like she had ever imagined he would to any of it.

Shunsui leaned back then, and she was lost in the look of his eyes, glowing faintly in the dim light, intent on her face. The gaze of a predator suddenly, not the man she knew. "And as for the 'silly little crush' comment, I'm not sure how to rid you of that absurd idea."

"I was upset when I said that," she defended breathlessly, so confused about where this conversation stood and what the issues even were anymore. They were just talking about bloodshed, for god's sake. Weren't they?

"Do you think what we have is so easily explained?"

"No," she said honestly.

"I'm glad for that, at least," he smirked, the tilt of his full lips sinful. "Come on, I'll take you home."

Nanao stared, transfixed, into his eyes. It took a moment for his words to hit her, and she had a strange spike of panic at the thought of him dropping her off alone, unwilling to part ways with him yet. She felt she needed something still that only this man could provide.

He noticed, like he notices everything, and amended, "I'm not leaving you alone. I just want to leave this place. Let me take care of you tonight, sweetheart."

Uncertain what she was even agreeing to, she dipped her chin, "Okay."

Reaching for her, he led them back outside to the alley.

He ran a quick eye around the surroundings, finding no souls nearby. They stopped and turned together to the building, both quiet for several moments.

"Do you feel at peace with your decisions, Nanao-chan?" he murmured into the quiet between them.

She felt her spine stiffen at his words. He wasn't expecting an answer, just giving her something to chew over.

Peace?

She thought about it, staring at the home of an old nightmare. She felt like herself again, certainly. As if something deep inside herself that had never fit right had been taken out, unmade, then rearranged, reshaped, and designed to fit back together in perfect symmetry.

A faint smile touched her lips. He had grounded her after all, she realized. Her Captain, in true form, had gone about it in a much different way than she had imagined for herself. She had wanted, and even expected, him to shake some sense into her.

Instead, he had crawled into the dark place with her and drug her back out the other side.

A few shades left of innocent now, maybe. And certainly lacking a few morals that she always held close. Oddly enough, she had gained some interesting, if terrifying, insights into how she worked. And him, for that matter.

And yes. A part of her was at peace now.

"Thank you," she said finally, and meant it with everything she had.

Tucking her to his side, he raised a hand, a compact little ball of kido brightened his palm, condensing into a fireball so bright she had to turn away.

"Did you make him hurt?" he asked casually. He could have been talking about the weather for all the emotion in his tone.

"Yes," she told him, and felt his arm tighten around her waist.

"Good girl."

Firing off the ball of kido into the hated little hovel, she knew it was hot enough to level the place.

He flashed them away before the explosion went off, but the heat licked at their skin right before they vanished from the spot.