Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach; it belongs entirely to Tite Kubo. Mine is only fanfiction, my preference, and tribute to non-canon couples.

Author's Notes: Ohayou, Mina-san! Thanks for waiting and continuing to read.

Just a forewarning; I'm sure this chapter my throw a few of you off, but trust me, there is method to my madness. For those of you who have gone beyond the anime to the manga ending, you may understand where I'm going with this and I do not want to give spoilers for those who haven't. It's just that "Bleach's" ending left too many unanswered questions, IMO.

Many thanks to - Tuvstarr's lost heart - I'm so glad you chose not to leave the fandom and I hope you enjoy what's up and coming. EuoniaWrites - thanks so much for the review and please continue to read.

A huge thanks to Mischievous Whisper for favoriting this story and a shout out to Deminem & branecandi for following my fanfic.

As always and without further adieu, please, read, review and hopefully enjoy.

Chapter 7: Bane of One's Existence

Ryouji Watanabe, the head psychotherapist of the 4th Division, relaxed back in his chair and observed his patient. Only fifteen minutes left of Lt. Shuhei Hisagi's hourly session, yet the Vice-Captain of the 9th Division had spent the majority of that time staring out of the window.

Hisagi had approached therapy with skepticism. Since day one, the vice-captain's responses were cautious, his manner reserved. Watanabe recalled the first two sessions were tense, as doctor and patient struggled with conversation. The shinigami kept insisting that he was fine, did not need therapy, and stated that if not for Capt. Unohana's insistence, he wouldn't be caught dead in this chair, room nor this ward.

By the third session, Hisagi had relaxed and had started to open up - a little, and had ceased evading Watanabe's questions. There were also a few occasions where he had inquired about his former Captain's behavior. Although the shinigami had posed questions and voiced his opinions in stoic monotones, Dr. Watanabe usually sensed his underlying anger, but not today.

Their morning session started much the same as always; Hisagi was punctual, his greeting gruff but respectful and he took a seat in the single chair across from Watanabe's desk, instead of the chaise lounge that most patients chose. The two exchanged a few pleasantries, and then the session began.

"So, Lieutenant, what, since our last session, has impacted you this past week?" Watanabe inquired.

"Not much," Hisagi answered in a bored tone.

"I hear you've recently returned from a mission; you're first since the Karakura Town battle; would you like to discuss it?"

"You know I can't do that," Hisagi said, and one side of his mouth lifted in a smirk.

Watanabe nodded, well aware that all missions amongst the Gotei 13 were confidential; therefore, he was prepared for Hisagi's answer, just not the delivery. During each session, the 9th division shinigami had remained neutral; he presented straight face and void of surface emotion, which is why the half-smile and amused tone took the therapist by surprise.

"Yeah, I know," Watanabe responded, as he raised a hand to slide his spectacles up his nose with his index finger. "Trying to catch you off-guard; should've known better." Hisagi smiled at that, Watanabe noted. "For someone just back from a mission, you seem more relaxed," said the therapist, his interest piqued. "There's a positive aura; has something good happened?"

"Hmmm, something good?" Hisagi murmured, relaxed back in the chair, crossed his arms over his chest and appeared to mull over the question, and that's when Watanabe lost him.

Hisagi's grey eyes strayed somewhere past the therapist's shoulder and out the bay window behind Watanabe's desk. Mentally, the 9th division lieutenant had left the room, his mind elsewhere. Watanabe opened his mouth to attempt to re-engage his patient in conversation, but paused, noticing the various emotions crossing the Shinigami's face; uncertainty, surprise, wonder, and a pinch of regret registered before Hisagi, unknowingly, emitted a resigned sigh.

"Interesting," Watanabe thought, as he continued to observe his patient while jotting notes in the record. The 9th division lieutenant referred by Captain Unohana, without words, was generating his most productive session yet. Hisagi may deny it, but it was apparent there were, indeed, new developments since their last meeting. Something or someone had brought about this change, relieving the lieutenant of stress and distracting him from his feelings regarding his former captain.

Another sigh drew Watanabe's attention. The therapist looked up from his notes and over at the still pensive shinigami to find his lips curved in a crooked smile. Not just any smile; more of a self-satisfied, lascivious grin and his narrowed grey eyes held, what Watanabe recognized as unveiled lust. A woman - a woman, was the reason for Lt. Hisagi's uplifted mood and diversion from his other troubles.

"Well, well; who would've guessed?" Watanabe thought, flipped his retractable pen, and tapped the clip lightly on top of Hisagi's journal. Was it possible that Shuhei Hisagi had finally caught the attention of Rangiku Matsumoto? Everyone in the Seireitei, except the 10th division vice-captain herself, knew of Hisagi's infatuation.

Rangiku had also been recommended for therapy but had declined. After losing her longtime friend and former Gotei 13 - 3rd Division captain, Gin Ichimaru, it was possible that Hisagi and Matsumoto had come together, each seeking solace in the other. Watanabe was a bit uncomfortable with that theory because, to a therapist, a connection based on sorrow was like putting a band-aid on a gaping wound. It was a temporary fix that, in the long run, could prove detrimental to both parties.

Watanabe leaned forward on his desk, his hands forming a steeple, as he studied the absorbed shinigami, unaware that the next session would reveal to the 4th division therapist just how wrong he was - on both counts.

XXXXX

Hisagi paid no heed to the clear blue sky nor the abundance of white clouds forming various shapes, as he gazed out of the window of the psychotherapist office. Subconsciously, he aware of his surroundings; 4th Division medical barracks, mental health ward, Dr. Watanabe's office. However, instead of focusing on his therapy session, Hisagi instead recalled an interesting and entertaining evening filled with revelations and promise -

"You're too soft, Isane-chan!" Rangiku scolded in a slurred voice, as she took a swig of her sixth beer. "Don't let Uno... Unohana push you around; she's - she's just a captain," the red-head hiccuped and slammed the empty beer can down on the table before reaching for another. "Everybody knows 'we'..." Rangiku paused and pointed to Isane, Hisagi, and Kira, wagging a perfectly manicured finger, "... vice-captains do all the work. I know it," she said, pointing to herself. "And Toshiro knows it," she referenced her captain. Rangiku was dropping honorifics and had even used her Division captains' first name.

It wasn't fair to compare them, thought Hisagi, as he relaxed back against the sofa cushions with a beer in hand and watched the two women interact. He knew it was wrong to measure an old passion against a blossoming new one, but he couldn't help himself.

Rangiku Matsumoto - the spirited redhead vixen was loud and obnoxious when drunk and tended to be more outspoken than usual (to the point of rudeness) after a round of binge drinking. Although she can never recall (or so she claims) what she had said the next day, most (especially men) never held a grudge. Even so, Hisagi had desired Matsumoto since before graduating from the academy.

Isane Kotetsu - the silver-haired siren was soft-spoken and shy. She approached her alcohol the same as everything else - with caution; sipping from her can, as it were a glass of fine wine instead of a beer. Isane was still nursing her first brew, while Rangiku was nearly at her limit.

Tonight, from those soft succulent lips, Isane had confessed her attraction for him, as far back as their years at the academy. Contrary to his fellow lieutenants belief, Hisagi had noticed the tall, slender, pale-haired, first-year student who towered over the other academy students; all the women and most of the men.

Isane was smart, her grades top-notch; She never fell below third in the rankings, and it came as no surprise to the faculty and other students when the Gotei 13 members started showing an interest. At the end of the 2nd semester, the young woman was transferred from Shiho Academy to Division 4 to train directly under Capt. Unohana in the medical ward. It was there, his last night as an inpatient, that Hisagi was first romantically drawn to Isane. Although still unsure what had spurred his interests in the medic that night, hence he has been unable to shake or ignore his awakened feelings.

In the background, Rangiku continued to spout drunken nonsense. Hisagi held the beer up to his lips, hiding a smile behind the can while Kira relaxed back against the cushions straightfaced, but his blue eyes reflected his amusement. Both shinigami had heard her rant numerous times before and, depending on how drunk they were, had supported their fellow lieutenant's intoxicated opinions.

Hisagi watched Kira pick up his beer; it was empty, as was every other can on the table. The 3rd division vice-captain started to get up to grab another from the fridge, but Isane stopped him.

"Stay put, Kira-san, I'll get more," she said and rose primly in her short skirt, which fluttered around her thighs as she turned toward the kitchen.

"Uh... thanks, Isane-chan," Hisagi heard Izuru Kira murmur as he sat back down.

Hisagi's eyes followed the medic into the kitchen and watched as she opened the fridge and leaned in, allowing him an excellent view of those long shapely legs. However, an appreciative sigh from his comrade alerted the dark-haired lieutenant that he wasn't the only one sightseeing, and his grip tightened around his beer.

The sound of aluminum crushing drew Kira's attention. The blond shinigami looked over at Hisagi just as he sat his crumpled beer can on the table. "Something wrong, buddy?" he asked innocently enough, but his gaze was challenging.

Hisagi opened his mouth to say something but closed it abruptly, as Isane reappeared carrying two beers. One she handed to Kira and the other, she placed in front of him before resuming her seat.

"Thanks," Hisagi murmured without looking up; he pulled the can toward him, popped the top and took a long swig.

"It's been awhile since I've seen you in anything other than shinigami robes, Isane-chan," Kira said. "You still have the sexiest legs ever," he remarked.

Hisagi choked on his beer. 'Still?' What did he mean, still? Kira had never mentioned seeing Isane out of uniform. Not only that, the blond shinigami had addressed Isane as 'chan' instead of 'san' or Kotetsu and for some reason that annoyed him. And now, his fellow lieutenant had the gall to openly stare at that part of her anatomy he had just boldly complimented. The jerk!

"Sexy?" Rangiku slurred before Isane could respond to Kira's flattery. The woman's head lifted from the table she was slumped over and flipped her swath of strawberry-blonde curls from her face. "I'll show ya' sexy," she mumbled, grabbed the lapels of her shinigami robe and bared a shoulder.

"No... Rangiku!" Isane was up in a flash, dropping down in front of her friend and wrestling with her to keep her clothes on. "Stop it!" she hissed, as the redhead slapped her hands away.

Both Hisagi and Kira smirked and shook their heads; the two had seen Rangiku drunker than she was now and neither had ever seen any more than a bared shoulder; obviously, Isane didn't now that.

The struggle between the two women ended with Rangiku's arm slung around Isane's neck, holding her close to her side. "Closet sexy... that's you," the red-head squeezed the taller girl. "This chicks gotta bangin' bod under here," Rangiku slurred, her hand inching toward the zipper of Isane's hooded sweatshirt. "I know - I've showered with her," she giggled.

The image that popped into Hisagi's head was inappropriate but oh-so-gratifying. Rangiku was right, Isane was carrying concealed weapons. Long sleek legs and pair of breast that rivaled any busty model in those girlie magazines that he and Renji enjoyed.

"Rangiku!" Isane gasped, grabbed at the red-heads hands and tried to wiggle free from the woman's grasp.

"Get outta that clinic, girl, and have some fun," Rangiku gushed. "Snag a guy and let'em see that slinky lingerie selection you got. Bikini panties, thongs, lacy push-ups..."

"Shhhh!" Isane sputtered. The medic managed to break out of the red-heads hold; she dived on the woman and tried to cover her mouth. "Not another word, Rangiku, I mean it!" She hissed and finally pinned the red-head to the floor.

Whether the silver-haired medic was red-faced from the exertion or embarrassed at her fellow vice-captain revealing secrets, neither Hisagi nor Kira was sure but could only stare, bug-eyed, at the tangled limbs and skewed clothes; Rangiku's partially exposed cleavage and Isane's bare thighs had nearly fulfilled every guy's cat-fight fantasy.

"Alright, alright," Rangiku slurred, pushing Isane away, as she sat up. "Hiccup! Jeez, you're brutal when riled up," she stated, straightening her clothes and then reached up to tug one of Isane's braids. "Save some of that fire for the next hollow we run into," Rangiku muttered and reached for her beer. Turning the can up to her lips, she frowned and then lowered it, realizing it was empty.

The 10th division vice-captain staggered to her feet and through a force of habit, Hisagi and Kira rose also. Rangiku lurched forward, throwing her arms around the closer, dark-haired shinigami's neck. "Get me another beer, won't you, Hisagi-kun?" she purred.

"No can do," he responded calmly, gently pried her arms from his neck and held her at a safe distance. "You've had enough."

It was strange, thought Hisagi; usually, the blood rushed to his head at Rangiku's nearness, leaving him wound tighter than the strings on his guitar. However, as a man, he still appreciated the attention of a buxom beauty, but the lack of his usual ardor for her was self-evident.

"Aww... you're no fun," Rangiku pouted and turned to her other drinking buddy. "Kira?"

"Sorry, Rangiku," the third division vice-captain said, as he hooked an arm through hers to draw her away from Hisagi. "Maybe we should call it a night," he encouraged.

"Sheesh! Party poopers!" Rangiku jerked away from Kira. "Fine... I'll go get it myself," she said and turned, teetering toward the kitchen, but found the way blocked by Isane.

"Kira's right, Rangiku," Isane concurred and reached for her fellow shinigami's hand. "Thanks for arranging a celebration for Momo and me. We should get together again when she's up and well. Besides, I'm feeling a little tired right now."

Rangiku sobered instantly, reminded that Isane was also recuperating and her blue eyes softened as they peered into Isane's cool grey. "You had fun, right?" the red-head whispered.

"I sure did," Isane smiled and squeezed her friend's hand to confirm. "But, it's late. Hisagi-san and Kira-san will escort you back to your barracks, and we'll talk more tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay; but... but we can... we can help you clean before we leave," offered Rangiku and staggered toward the mess they had made, but Kira caught her and pulled her back.

"I'll stay and help Kotetsu," Hisagi blurted out suddenly. "Kira, you take Rangiku home."

"No!" Isane cried out and then pink-cheeked, she back-pedaled. "I mean, it... it's okay; I can't ask my guest to clean," she declined, not looking in Hisagi's direction. "The... there's not much to do anyway."

The rejection cut like a knife and Hisagi wondered what had gone wrong. He and Isane were making progress; had he moved too fast, had he offended her in some way? Hisagi's eyes appealed to the silver-haired woman, but she would not make eye contact. Moving to stand in front of her, he blocked her view from the others in the room. "Are you sure? I'm reliable." Hisagi implored, but the medic continued to avoid his gaze.

"I know that," Isane whispered. "You're the Shinigami Women's Association go to guy, after all. But it's okay, Hisagi-san, cleaning gives me time to think - it clears my head."

"Kotetsu?" he inquired, and then a bit softer, "Isane...?"

"Please, Hisagi-san," she sounded desperate.

The formality wall was back up, and 'Hisagi-san' was forced to back off. Apparently, Isane needed more time or (heaven forbid) was having second thoughts. After all, things between them had intensified, and they had steamrolled into the 'getting to know each other' stage, so it made sense to slow down a bit.

"Just don't overthink things, alright?" Hisagi leaned in and whispered for her ears alone. After Isane's brief nod of acknowledgment, he stepped back, stood watching her for a minute and then turned to leave, brushing past a tipsy, confused Rangiku and a cheeky, smug-faced Kira.

"Two minutes left of your session, lieutenant, are you sure you don't have anything you want to discuss - anything you want to add?"

Dr. Watanabe's voice invaded Hisagi's thoughts, unaware that the therapist had noticed his positive energy has suddenly taken a downward spiral. Those vivid emotions from earlier seemed to have dwindled along with the minutes on the clock.

"No..." Hisagi muttered, "No, nothing at all."

"That's too bad," Watanabe said, sounding disappointed.

Both men were silent as they watched the remainder of the clock run down. One minute - forty-five seconds - thirty - fifteen -

"Sessions over," Watanabe announced. "We'll meet again in three days."

XXXXX

Thirteenth Division captain, Jushirou Ukitake, hurried through headquarters for his scheduled meeting in the Captain-Commander's executive office. After working diligently throughout the night, reviewing the hourly reports from the patrol corps, one of the oldest captains of the Gotei 13 had barely slept a wink but was rewarded for his efforts upon learning there was finally a breakthrough in the investigations. The last incoming report had revealed that three individuals on Ukitake's list had engaged in suspicious behavior.

The hallway seemed to stretch endlessly, and the fatigued captain stumbled a few times before reaching the double doors at the end. Using his shoulder, Ukitake leaned on and pushed, forcing the solid oak open. He entered the room and saw Captain-Commander Yamamoto sitting at the head of the table, with his fellow captain, Soi-Fon, seated to his right. Approaching his peers, the sleep-deprived captain bowed to each and took the seat on the left.

"You look like hell," Soi Fon spat bluntly, taking in the dark circles under Ukitake's eyes.

"So everyone keeps telling me," he muttered, recalling Kiyone had stated as much just a few minutes ago. "Well, what do we have?" he inquired, deciding to get down to business and looked down at the three profiles lying on the table.

"The first is Inose of the 3rd Division," Soi-Fon began, taking the hint. "An unseated officer who's become quite bold since Gin Ichimaru's deflection. It seems he's getting the other officers riled up, causing lieutenant Izuru Kira a lot of grief."

"To my knowledge, Lt. Kira hasn't reported any disturbances amongst his peers," Ukitake said and turned to Yamamoto for confirmation. The Captain -Commander of the Gotei 13, sat with his eyes closed; if Ukitake didn't know better, he would have thought him asleep.

"As if he would," Soi-Fon snapped. "Division 3 is catching enough flack from the others, same as the 5th and the 9th, although most are more sympathetic to Lt. Hinamori's plight than either Lt. Hisagi or Lt. Kira. Those two have been low-key and trying to keep a lid on things."

"I can't argue that; how they've managed thus far is quite admirable, and this will only increase their burdens," Ukitake said with a tired sigh. "The report states that last night Inose took a midnight stroll in the Rukongai-District 64; is that right?"

"That's right; the Onmitsukido Corps tracked him to a small hut 10 miles inland," Soi-Fon informed her fellow captain. "He was there for approximately four hours before returning to the Seireitei."

"Hmm," Ukitake murmured, picked up the profile and leaned back in his seat, his mind working furiously. "What's his motive?" he asked after a moment.

"Motive for?" Soi-Fon probed.

"Motive for working against Soul Society," the 13th division captain stated, matter-of-fact.

"Tsch! You and your 'innocent until proven guilty' crap and fairness to suspects," the petite captain spat. "So annoying and unnecessary. His motive, captain," Soi-Fon said pointedly, "District 64 is where Gin Ichimaru lived before becoming a soul reaper!"

"So?"

"So? What do you mean so?" Soi-Fon slammed her hand down on the table, pushed back her chair, and stood up. "There must be a connection; he was probably in cahoots with Gin Ichimaru this entire time."

"That's speculation," Ukitake said tiredly.

"Damn it, look here..."

"Sit down, Captain Soi-Fon," Yamamoto growled, opening one eye and pinned the woman with a heated glare. He waited for her to resume her seat and then said, "Let's review the others," before closing his eye again.

Soi-Fon slid the other profile across the table, her blueish grey eyes shooting daggers at Ukitake. "How about this one, Mr. Goody two-shoes?"

This particular shinigami was no stranger to Ukitake; Aoga - an officer of the 4th Division and former academy classmate of Shuhei Hisagi. Placing his elbows on the table, the white-haired captain began massaging his temples, as a headache started to form.

"Need a motive, captain?"

Soi-Fon's sarcasm rang in Ukitake's ears, causing his head to thump and he remembered Kanisawa, a sixth-year academy student killed on a training mission while accompanied by her classmates Hisagi and Aoga. But that happened so long ago, could that be a motive for the mild-mannered Aoga to turn against Soul Society?

"I know what you're thinking, Ukitake but remember, Tousen bore a grudge for over a century," Soi-Fon reminded him. "All because someone dear to him died and he felt that Soul Society was too lenient with the one responsible. Therefore, he secretly exacted his revenge on a system he appeared to embrace. That could be the same scenario here. Aoga attempted to avenge Kanisawa at that time and barely escaped with his life. He's been hiding in the 4th Division ever since just waiting for an opportunity..."

"An opportunity to do what?" Ukitake's tone was menacing, as he abruptly cut off Soi Fon's babbling. The silver-haired captain lifted his head, and his hazel eyes shimmered as they bore into his fellow captain's blue-grey, which momentarily registered surprise. "Cut the conspiracy theories, Soi-Fon, and let's deal with facts!" Ukitake ran an agitated hand across his brow. "Now... the intel report stated that at 9:47 pm, Aoga was seen exiting the sewer tunnels near district 17. It appears he was trying to get to the sight where the Adchujas intercepted the rescue team. However, I understand the site is still under investigation and guarded by the 11th Division."

"So, why was he there?" Soi-Fon asked, sat down, leaned back, and crossed her arms over her chest. "Orders from Unohana?"

"Not likely," Ukitake sighed and rubbed his throbbing temples. A month ago he would have said that Retsu Unohana was the most direct captain in all of the Gotei 13, however, now he wasn't so sure. Instead, he muttered, "She would have run that by the Captain-Commander first."

"Says you," Soi-Fon sniffed and looked over at the bearded senior in question who emitted another low growl and the 2nd division captain hurriedly moved on to the next suspect.

Pushing another profile under Ukitake's nose, Soi-Fon smirked and sat back, allowing her fellow captain to absorb the possibilities.

"Kuna," Ukitake breathed. The one individual out of all the listed suspects that bothered him the most. Kuna, a researcher for the 12th Division Shinigami Research and Development Institute under Capt. Mayuri Kurotsuchi. "Not good," was the only comment forthcoming.

"Damn right," Soi-Fon hissed. "I'm embarrassed to say that the Onmitsukido lost her. Kuna went missing for two hours; after leaving the institute, she was followed about a half a mile from the Senkaimon before she just - disappeared."

Ukitake sat with his eyes closed. He was weak, the fatigue finally getting to him, but it was best to deal with this as soon as possible. "Bring them in for questioning... questioning," Ukitake emphasized for his fellow captain's sake. "No use of force, no strong-arming."

"Who do you think you're talking to?" Soi-Fon snarled, rattled by the insinuation.

"You and I both know I have grounds for my requests. There will be enough opposition once those three are brought in for questioning," Ukitake allowed that to sink in. "Regardless of your feelings, Soi-Fon, we have to play this one by the book. Also, let's notify the division captains first."

"I disagree," Yamamoto finally spoke up. "Detaining and questioning the suspects are our priority. Captains Unohana, Kurotsuchi and Lt. Kira will be told that Inose, Aoga, and Kuna are on special assignment per my request. That will be enough for now, at least until the outcome of our inquests."

Ukitake wanted to argue, but he could tell by the older man's body language and the firm grip on his staff/zanpakuto, that Yamamoto wasn't budging on that issue and Ukitake was forced to nod in concession.

"Now that that's settled," Soi-Fon stood up with a wicked smirk, "We'll have them rounded up within the hour."

"Tomorrow."

"What? Why?" the petite 2nd division captain asked, stumped by Yamamoto's request - no, his demand for a delay.

The Gotei 13's commander-in-chief ignored the question and instead randomly quoted, "What's fair is not always right; what's right, is not always fair," the elder shinigami stated, including both captains.

"Soi-Fon, Ukitake will be present for the questionings. Assemble tomorrow at noon; I'll expect a report by tomorrow evening," Yamamoto informed them, pushed back his chair and stood; Soi-Fon and Ukitake, on wobbly legs, rose also.

"Get some rest, Jushirou." The elder shinigami looked back on the shinigami and division captain that was like a son to him. "In your thirst for justice, as always, you tend to overexert yourself. You're passionate about your work, my boy, I understand that. I recommend you see Unohana for a checkup," he threw over his shoulder before exiting the room.

Both shinigami bowed, and once Yamamoto was out of sight, Soi Fong rounded on Ukitake.

"It's a pain working with you, you know," she spat, oblivious or unconcerned that Ukitake was standing, yet using the table for support. "You're so self-righteous."

Too tired to respond, Ukitake produced a weak smile and watched, as Soi-Fon gathered the profiles and stuffed them into her haori. "Tomorrow at noon," she announced before spinning on her heels and marched huffily from the room.

"Tomorrow at noon," Ukitake repeated and pushed back from the table. The silver-haired captain went to move forward; his vision blurred, and the room started to spin. The shinigami felt himself falling forward and put his hands out to break his fall. He collapsed on the hardwood table and then, everything went black.

XXXXX

Less than twenty-four hours had passed, and already, Isane's living room was, once again, filled with visitors clad in their shihakushos. The shinigami medic could not remember the last time she had entertained so many quests in her small abode? With everyone dressed in uniform, Isane felt a bit awkward wearing black leggings and a white thigh length tunic top.

Kiyone had dropped by to check up on her and was currently in the kitchen raiding the refrigerator. Eiji sat next to Ume on the small sofa while Masaru, with his arm still in a sling, sat on the floor. Hanataro was working the morning shift and was unable to come, but promised to drop by later. Isane's team members had come by to see how she was fairing and to give their versions of what had occurred after their vice-captain had passed out in the Rukongai.

"Captain Kurotsuchi snatched the Adjucha's body that Lt. Hisagi killed," Eiji informed Isane. "Probably gonna experiment on it or somethin'. There was nothin' left of the other with the tentacles; Madarame-sama destroyed that one."

"District 17 is under investigation right now, guarded by squad eleven," Masaru piped in. "The higher-ups want to know how the Adjuchas got there and if there are more in the vicinity."

"That's what I wanna know," Kiyone managed, stuffing her face, as she left the kitchen. Isane's little sister had helped herself to the leftovers from last night's get-together and carried a plated assortment with a beverage on a tray. "How did those bastards get into the Rukongai in the first place?" she asked, plopping down hard next to Ume on the sofa. Nearly ejected from her seat, the young nurse stifled a squeal.

"Oh, my!" Kiyone gasped as she bit into one of the sausages. "So good! I know you didn't make this, sis," the blonde shinigami said.

Isane turned beet-red. "Excuse you?" she muttered.

"Aw... come on, everyone knows you can't cook," Kiyone teased. "Who made this and - why do you have beers in the fridge?" she inquired, as the thought just occurred. "You don't drink beer."

"For your information, I do drink beer," Isane responded huffily. "Just not... all the time... you know, mostly just to socialize," she added unnecessarily.

Kiyone stopped chewing, cocked her head to the side and observed her older sister, making Isane uncomfortable. If anyone knew her, it was Kiyone, and she was sure her sister had keyed into her nervousness.

"Rangiku came by last night and brought spirits," the elder Kotetsu explained, conveniently leaving out Kira and Hisagi. "We were celebrating my and Lt. Hinamori's recovery."

The room was silent, as Eiji, Masaru, and Ume watched the sparks fly between the two sisters; the two were different than night and day. Kiyone Kotetsu was a ball of fire - loud, outspoken, rowdy and had no trouble expressing herself, unlike their division vice-captain.

"Okay... whatever," Kiyone shrugged and then resumed eating.

Isane exhaled, happy that food was enough to distract her usually inquisitive and tactless sister. Whether a sensitive topic or not, if Kiyone decided to discuss it, she would and openly, and Isane didn't need that at the moment.

"So... Masaru," The older Kotetsu turned to the young medic. "I understand you now know how the other division team died."

"Yes," the boy said sadly. "They were incinerated by their reiatsu. The Adjucha used its tentacles to block the vents in their wrists; they panicked and in their heightened state - spontaneous combustion."

Isane nodded and reached out to touch the boy's shoulder. "Sorry, I couldn't tell you before, but it got crazy back in District 17," she said softly. "I just wanted to get you all back to Soul Society safely."

"If it wasn't for me, you could have told them," Ume said. "I panicked also - freaked out, totally lost it," the girl ranted.

"That's an understatement," Kiyone chimed in, looking up from the plate of food she had yet ask if anyone else would like to partake. "Hence, the banishment from away missions."

"Kiyone!" Isane gasped. "How cruel."

"No crueler than putting the lives of your teammates in danger because you allowed your fear to control you," she said, before popping the last sausage into her mouth. Once again, a long silence fell over the room, and the blond shinigami looked up to see everyone's eyes, except Ume's, on her. "What?" Kiyone inquired and quirked a brow in response.

"Okay, look," the younger Kotetsu placed her tray on the table. She picked up the glass, drained its contents in one gulp, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and sat the glass down with a thump. Kiyone stood up, her keen eyes encompassed the other shinigami in the room and announced. "I'm not in the 4th Division, but through my sister, I have a pretty good idea what you guys do. And if you don't mind me sayin', there's no way I'd put my life in the hands of someone who's more scared than me. I understand fear, but you gotta suck it up and do your job."

"Patients first," Kiyone continued. "That's your Division's motto, right?"

"Onee-sama has always been meek," Kiyone began, "And I never thought she would make it in the 4th Division. She was afraid of lots of things, but while she was out there, she squashed her fears, took care of her patients, and brought them back."

Kiyone turned to Ume. "You messed up, so what. Who hasn't? You got reprimanded, but you're still on the team," she said to the silent girl. "If Capt. Unohana allowed you to stay it means you're too good to lose; if you weren't, then it would have been... 'SWISH','" the younger Kotetsu made the sound with her lips while her hand made a slashing motion across her neck, emphasizing her point.

What her little sister had said was true, thought Isane, although Kiyone could have phrased things a bit nicer. During her early days at the academy and even under Unohana's guidance, Isane had fought to overcome her weaknesses - her aversion for the smell of blood, her passive nature, not to mention the borderline mysophobia. Field medics were exposed to dangerous conditions and locations, but the life and safety of the patient were first and foremost. It was the standard, and every officer of the 4th Division knew that.

"Well - I'm done!" Kiyone stretched, exhaled loudly and then patted her full stomach. "Gotta go!" She turned and headed for the door, saluting military style as she left.

For the third time in the space of a few minutes, the room was engulfed in silence, as the words of the saucy, blond shinigami's words sank in, leaving each person an individual impression.

"Gomen, Ume-chan," Isane apologized. "My sister is a bit..."

"Awesome," Ume breathed.

"Eh?" everyone chorused.

"Kiyone-senpai is right," Ume stated with a decisive nod.

'Kiyone-senpai?'

"Your sister is right, Fuku-taichou," the young nurse began, "My behavior put not only my teammates in jeopardy but also our injured."

"Capt. Unohana came down on me pretty hard, and I thought she would have me transferred, but she didn't," Ume breathed and looked around the room at her vice-captain and teammates. "I've been banned from away missions and confined to the ICU, but I'm still here. I can't believe I was feeling sorry for myself."

"You're a skilled nurse, Ume-chan, and Capt. Unohana is aware of that." Isane said softly. "You will learn, as I learned, as we all have, what it means to face your fears and grow in this division."

"I remember my first year of clinicals," Isane began. "The sight of blood didn't bother me, but I hated the smell; it made me nauseous. If it was fresh, it had a sickeningly, sweet metallic scent and old blood was strong, pungent and suffocating. I used to wear a nose clip when treating the wounded," Isane informed her team and was rewarded when they all laughed, imagining the scenario in their heads.

The conversation turned lighter after that, and eventually, Isane was able to relax back against the cushions to enjoy the company of her peers. As the others conversed around her, Isane fell silent, and her thoughts drifted back to the events of the previous evening.

Finally, she and Hisagi had connected, thought Isane as she stretched her legs and wiggled her pink painted toes. Spending an evening with her secret crush had felt like a dream. From the moment she had opened the door to those intense grey eyes, Isane thought him a gift. They had spent over an hour together, alone; they had talked, cooked together, Isane confessed, but then so did he - somewhat. Hisagi had admitted to an attraction but was unsure what had evoked such feelings. He was curious, but then so was she, and both wanted to explore.

It was a good start; in Isane's opinion - an excellent start and her toes curled as she relived his intoxicating kisses. Unconsciously, she raised a hand and traced her lips with a fingertip. Hisagi's kisses were unexpectedly tender and more sensual than she could have imagined, which were a vast difference and improvement over her previous experience.

It wasn't fair to compare Hisagi - a seasoned vice-captain to Fukuta Morishige - an introvert medical researcher and Isane's former sempai. The two had worked together during her second year training in the 4th Division and against Capt. Unohana's advice, the two had dated secretly.

"Surely, it is not my business, Kotetsu-san, but as your superior, it is my duty to advise you," Isane recalled Unohana's words back then. "Morishige is not the one, my dear. He's too self-absorbed and not at all compatible with someone of your generous nature. I hope you will reconsider pursuing anything beyond a kohai-sempai relationship."

Isane respected her captain and appreciated her concern; however, it was her decision, and she chose to continue the relationship with Fukuta. The medical researcher was a bit solemn, but he never made comments about her height, he respected her mind and, together, they conversed on many aspects of their research projects. Not only that, but Fukuta was focused solely on Isane and was subtle in wooing her, which was a first for the gangly medical student. Finally, someone liked Isane for who she was, or so she had thought.

"That's gotta hurt."

Eiji's voice pulled Isane from the past, and she realized she was gnawing on the finger that was so lovingly tracing her lips just moments before.

"Are you okay, Lt. Kotetsu?" Ume asked, leaning forward in her seat.

"Uh... oh, yes. Yes, I'm fine," Isane said and forced a smile, rubbing at the indention on her finger. "Just thinking."

"Maybe we should go," Masaru stated, as he stood. "You need your rest, Lt. Kotetsu and Capt. Unohana warned us not to overstay our welcome."

"It's not that serious," Isane smiled. "But thanks, everyone for coming."

"Hey, no prob," Eiji said, as the group entered the hall to change from their house slippers into their outdoor shoes. "Rest up, vice-cap; you're back on the clock tomorrow."

"Thanks for the reminder," Isane smirked, feigning sarcasm as she closed the door behind her subordinates. Truthfully, she couldn't wait to return to the medical ward. While at home, Isane had too much time to think about Rangiku in Hisagi's arms last night.

Walking back into the living room, Isane placed her hands on her hips and looked around. The only mess was Kiyone's tray on the side table, and the medic shook her head at little sisters infamous vice; leaving her mess for others to clean.

"She's such a pig," Isane muttered, as she picked up the tray and headed into the kitchen. After washing the dishes and cleaning the kitchen, the 4th division lieutenant sat down, propped her feet on the opposite chair directly across and reminisced.

Overall, it was a relaxing evening; time spent with friends was a welcomed guilty pleasure. Isane was thoroughly enjoying herself until Rangiku ended up in Hisagi's arms. The scene wasn't new; over the years, Isane had seen those two closer than they were tonight. Rangiku had, on one occasion, procured some near-hentai photos of Hisagi and Kira and had shared them with the women of the Shinigami Association. Even then, Isane cannot recall ever feeling the way she felt last night. She was upset with Rangiku, with Hisagi, but most of all - she was mad with herself for experiencing her first pangs of jealousy.

XXXXX

"He's late!"

Umiomi Ito sat, with one hip propped, on the editor's desk, and drummed her french manicured fingers on the drafted articles awaiting approval for tomorrow morning's paper. As always, the woman was dressed immaculate, decked out in a cobalt blue, above-the-knee, sheath dress, and taupe, pointy-toe pumps on her feet. Her blond hair was sleek and pulled back in a simple chignon at the nape of her neck and a soft scent of sakura blossoms surrounded her. Umio, (the name she preferred) was the 'Seireitei Communications' society journalist.

"He'll be here," Ishinoue Sannen, the marketing director, said, approaching the tall blonde. "The vice-captain had an appointment with his therapist this morning."

"Come on, Ishi-san, he was scheduled at ten o'clock; an hour session that ended..." Umio paused, flicked a slender wrist to look at her silver bracelet watch, "... an hour and fifteen minutes ago. What the hell is he doing?"

"Patience, Umio-chan," Ishinoue said calmingly and slid a pacifying cup of iced java across the desk and slid in a straw. "I'll make sure you keep your appointment with the prestigious Kyouraku's. I hear Captain Shunsui's mother, at her age, is still Soul Society's fashion icon."

"You know it," Umio smirked but accepted Ishinoue's peace offering and took a sip from the cold brew. "Where do you think our 8th Division captain gets his flair; not from papa Kyouraku, that's for sure," she said thinking about the head family members outdated style of clothing.

Hisagi walked in to find both Umio and Ishinoue chatting away over coffee, using his desk as a personal breakroom. The 'Seireitei's Communications' editor was already in a foul mood. After his session this morning, he had hovered around several nurses stations looking for Isane, before finally running into Hanantaro.

"Lt. Kotetsu's not here today," the young medic had informed Hisagi. "Captain Unohana forbade her to come in; says she needs rest after her ordeal. Why don't you drop by her quarters? I'm going over once my shift ends."

Disappointed, Hisaigi muttered something unintelligible and then looked at his watch. He gasped, realizing he was over an hour late for work with an editing deadline in less than two hours. After a brief thanks to Hanataro, Hisagi left the medical ward and rushed to the 9th division barracks and 'Seireitei Communications.'

"Don't you have an interview this afternoon?" Hisagi growled as he entered his office. Ishinoue got up from the desk and stood at attention, but Umio stayed where she was and quirked a finely arched brow.

"And good morning to you too," Umio snorted and then the theatrics began. "Oh, wait... it's lunchtime; so good afternoon my dear editor, who's over two hours late for our scheduled appointment - an appointment, I might add, that I was on time for and you dare to growl at me!" Umio's voice rose a few octaves higher. "Section 30 of the Editorial Act states..."

Alright, alright, alright!" Hisagi raised his hands in surrender, knowing Umio when she was on a roll. The woman could recite the Communications and Editorial Acts from memory and the one she was about to quote dealt with the process of dismissing and editor for lack of professionalism. "Sorry, Umio," he apologized. "It's just been a rough morning, so let's just get started."

Hisagi spent less than 15 minutes reviewing Umio's article before stamping his approval. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case for his other staff. Always the perfectionist, the music and entertainment journalist, Hiroyuki Ishishiro, argued the use of the preferred dingbat, desiring something fancier. It was nearly forty minutes before the two found a happy medium. Hiroyuki Yagamo, the writer of the weekly public poll, had been advised to tone down his article, reminding the young man that readers wanted to hear from the public and not Hiro's personal opinions. Hisagi called for a revision and, amazingly, they met the deadline.

It was now five o'clock in the evening in the Seireitei, and except for the editor, the communications office was empty. The staff had cleared out promptly an hour ago. Hisagi, who had arrived close to noon, had dived into work without taking a break. Mizuho Hayakawa, the sportswriter, was kind enough to toss her editor a package of melon bread before leaving him alone and brooding in the dimmed office.

Hisagi worked steadily, making up for the missed morning hours. The sun was beginning to set by the time he placed the final drafts in the out-basket, laid down his pen and rocked back in his chair. With his work now complete, the exhausted and hungry editor allowed himself to think about the elusive medic. Isane - he wanted to see her and had considered dropping by her place after work, but decided it was best to give her space.

Picking up the melon bread, Hisagi held up the package and frowned. How long had Hayakawa had this thing in her desk? The wrapper was wrinkled and the bun flat; according to the expiration date, the bread was still good, but it didn't look fresh. "Thanks, but no thanks," Hisagi murmured as his stomach growled in protest. With a groan, the shinigami editor leaned further back in his chair, lifted his arms in a perfect 3 point form and 'Swoosh,' shot the pastry dead-center into the wastebasket across the room.

"Is that how you repay Hayakawa-san's generosity? She'll be pissed if she sees that tomorrow; make sure you dump the trash tonight, editor."

Recognizing the voice, Hisagi swung around in his chair and turned to face his blond-haired, blue-eyed, friend, fellow vice-captain and, as of last night, his conscious.

"What do you want?"

"Ah... you're still upset," Kira smirked, as he set a bento bag down on Hisagi's desk.

"Does my desk look like a diner?" the dark-haired shinigami barked, recalling Umio and Ishinoue's coffee break earlier.

"It looks like a mess," Kira snorted but immediately sobered recalling his reason for seeking out his fellow vice-captain. "Truce," he appealed and patted the top of the bento bag. "I ran into Hayakawa-san at Okada's restaurant. She told me you were working late and you needed nourishment. So, here you go; the special - yakitori, rice, and a hijiki salad."

"Thanks!" Hisagi leaned forward and inhaled the aroma coming from the bento.

"Hey, no need," Kira said. The blond shinigami dragged a chair from another desk and sat down. "After last night, I felt I owed you."

"Naw," Hisagi brushed away, Kira's version of an apology, as he opened the entree. "I was pissed for a second, but I heard you; what you said about Isane and me made sense."

"Glad you feel that way, but I said some things that may have been out-of-line last night, but hey... this is me, and we're friends. I just wanted you to see things from a different perspective."

Hisagi nodded with a mouth full of food.

"Everyone knows you've always had a thing for Rangiku," Kira continued the conversation from last night after they had escorted the 10th Division vice-captain to her barracks. "Hell, man, she's been on your radar since our years at Shiho. And now suddenly, you're switching gears."

"You don't think switching gears is a good thing?" Hisagi managed to ask while biting into the skewered chicken. "Weren't you the one who told me how things were between Rangiku and Capt. Ichimaru and to not get my hopes up?"

"I had to," Kira responded and shrugged. "I couldn't stand by and watch a friend make a fool of himself by chasing a woman who's already committed. That's another reason I was worried about you and Isane."

"What do you mean?" Hisagi abruptly dropped his chicken and, panic-stricken looked over at Kira. "Is Isane involved with someone?"

"You should see your face right now," Kira grinned sheepishly, taking in the smudge of sauce on Hisagi's chin. His fellow vice-captain's narrowed eyes fixed him with a penetrating stare, as he awaited an answer. "There was speculation that she was seeing someone, but that was a while ago. Besides, I wasn't talking about Isane; I was talking about you."

Hisagi relaxed, but only for a second as Kira's words sunk in, and he finally started to comprehend his friend's comment last night.

"If you're not sincere, then back off now, before someone gets hurt. Neither you nor Isane deserves that."

Kira was concerned that Hisagi's interest was a passing fancy, but after observing and interacting with the parties involved, the 3rd Division lieutenant had to trust what he knew about his friends and fellow vice-captains.

Gin Ichimaru was the only man for Rangiku. That's how it was from the moment the two entered Shino' Academy, and even more so now after his death. The red-haired lieutenant was flighty, flirty, and drew guys to her like moths to a flame, but her heart wasn't fickle, and her feelings for Gin were sound.

Shuhei Hisagi may have carried a torch for Rangiku, but he realized early on that his feelings were unreciprocated. The two were friends, and Kira's presence (or the 'third wheel' as Renji Abrarai had labeled him) was what kept the friendship balanced. Neither impulsive nor indecisive; Hisagi was prudent. He thought things through, considered the options, and once he came to a decision, moved forward with resolve. If Hisagi had chosen to pursue another love interest, it was assuredly after much self-reflection.

Isane Kotetsu, while at the academy, had shown an interest in Hisagi. However, after learning of his preference for their mutual, more vivacious classmate and friend, the bright first-year medic, lacking in self-esteem, silently backed off. Kira had thought Isane had gotten over her academy crush, but while training in the 4th Division, he noticed she still had feelings, and after observing both her and Hisagi last night, he also noticed she had matured and was much better at hiding them. That is - until Rangiku drew Hisagi into a drunken embrace.

"I have no intention of hurting her."

Kira lifted his head, and his intense blue eyes met and held Hisagi's solemn grey.

"Neither Isane nor I will be hurt," the dark-haired shinigami announced with sincerity.

"Alright," Kira said, nodded and leaned back in his chair. The atmosphere was too intense and the blond thought to lighten the mood once more with a smart-aleck retort. "You and Isane seemed pretty cozy last night. Sorry for the interruption."

"Hm," Hisagi grunted, as he finished the last grains of rice, refusing to rise to the bait.

"It was quite an enjoyable evening," Kira continued to probe with mischievous glee. "I was surprised when Isane kicked you out."

"She kicked all of us out," Hisagi reminded him. "She's recuperating, remember?"

"Isane seemed fine until the 'green-eyed monster' showed up."

"Green-eyed... what the hell are you talking about?" Hisagi inquired, only to have Kira cock his head to the side in a 'do I have to spell it out for you' pose. As realization dawned, the dark-haired shinigami snorted in disbelief. "Jealous? Isane jealous? Of what?"

"Are you that dense?" Kira asked and then sighed as Hisagi still seemed baffled. "Think man, think!" he urged and watched, amused, as his fellow vice-captain finally got a clue.

"No way," Hisagi whispered, more to himself than anyone else.

"Yes, way," Kira smirked, as he watched his friend lean back in his chair and to absorb the newfound information. "I'll leave first and allow time for that to set in," the blond stated; he stood and moved the borrowed chair back to its desk and then headed for the door. "I've got a division meeting early tomorrow morning. Don't forget to dump the trash. Later!"

After the door closed, Hisagi sat there a replayed the events of last evening in his mind. Kira was right, Isane became distant after Rangiku had tried to persuade him to get her another drink. Hisagi had forgotten about their embrace but recalled that it was after that Isane had frozen him out.

"She was jealous?" he asked himself, pondering her reaction - avoiding his eyes, talking at him instead of to him. "She was jealous." It was now a statement and one that brought a huge smile to his face.

XXXXX

I clawed my way into consciousness; my eyelids fluttered open to a darkened room - my room. I blinked, rapidly, trying to adjust my vision and the wooden beams slowly appeared overhead from where I lay. From my peripheral vision, a soft light flickered from a bedside candle, and the scent of lavender wafted through the air. I sensed the presence of another, heard the soft rustling of clothing as they moved about, and drew closer.

She had come, as I knew she would. On the one hand, I was relieved, on the other annoyed. A part of me desired it - desired her, while the other part felt an obstinate perversion for that same desire. For nearly two hundred years, we had performed this ritual - both giving, both taking whenever the need arose.

Suddenly, I felt her beside me; the mattress compressed as she sat down, our hips aligned. I closed my eyes, took a cleansing breath, and then sat up slowly, pacing myself to avoid her assistance. I turned to her then, my expression not one of welcome.

"How are you feeling, Jushirou?"

Retsu Unohana was a beautiful woman. No one, as far as Ukitake knew had ever seen her as she was now. Naked, with her hair unbound and flowing freely over her shoulders and down her back. Alabaster skin, silky smooth and flawless, save the battle scar just above her voluptuous breast.

"Better," Jushirou Ukitake responded. "This is... isn't necessary, Unohana." The 13th Division captain said that and yet, his hand found its way to the soft skin of his peer's inner thigh, stroking it in anticipation.

"I think it is."

Gone was the angelic smile Unohana reserved for her patients, staff, and the rest of Soul Society. Instead, she beamed coquettishly, as she slid closer, her mouth inches from Ukitake's. The candlelight illuminated her features, casting a glow on the shimmering obsidian tresses and caused a deeper hue to blue eyes that stared back at him unabashedly. Both knew what the other was thinking; the two had been together so long that words weren't necessary.

Unohana's eyes were questioning - why hadn't Ukitake called for her before his condition deteriorated? But his hazel eyes were stubborn and refused to answer. The silver-haired captain was feeling the effects of her nearness; her presence alone, and already he felt rejuvenated, his reiatsu slowly replenishing. Although Ukitake desired Unohana - respected her, even loved her, he resented his need of her, or rather, their situation.

"I sense your asperity, Jushirou," Unohana whispered, as her tongue slid sensually over his bottom lip, and Ukitake felt her shiver. "Share it with me," she invited. Excitement racked her petite frame as she fed off his anger and frustrations. It was the one thing he hated most.

Hate it though he may, Ukitake was as aroused as she, but he refused to allow Unohana to dominate. His hands slid up her thighs, clutched onto her firm bottom and in one swift motion, rolled her over, pinning her beneath him.

Looming over her, Ukitake stared down on Unohana; she stared back, her gaze challenging. Silver hair hung loose, framing the woman and mingled with her dark mane that spilled across the mattress. Unohana felt his anger and reveled in it - damn her, but Ukitake understood she needed it, which only escalated his passion.

Ukitake leaned down and kissed her, exuding all negativity and Unohana arched into him receiving it all. He felt her hands at his shoulders, nearly tearing the robe in search of bare skin. Ukitake pulled back to remove his arms from the confining garment and heard Unohana whimper in protest. He groaned as she lifted her legs and locked them around his waist and her arms around his neck so that she was drawn up with him to straddle his lap.

"So impatient," Ukitake hissed. Finally free of restrictions, he plunged fingers into Unohana's hair and pulled, forcing her head back, allowing him access to every sensitive area of her upper body. "Now," he growled. "Where were we?"

To be continued...