Beyond Words

Chapter 1

When his eyes flickered briefly, he saw that it was almost dark and the sky was an array of rich yellows, reds and oranges. Strange, he mused, closing his eyes briefly. The sky had never looked so vast and daunting before. He struggled to raise himself to a sitting position, but found himself immobilised. Oddly enough, his head was slightly raised on something soft.

"Hush, Ukitake-sempai," a gentle female voice murmured, as light fingers swept the hair back from his forehead. "Do not exert yourself. You will be better shortly."

"Shunsui's gone drinking…" he gasped, fighting the tickling sensation in his throat that usually heralded a coughing fit. "Yamamoto sensei will inspect the male dormitories at eight o'clock tonight... Must tell Shunsui…"

Unable to bear it any longer, he turned his head to the left and succumbed to the urges in his lungs and throat. As if sensing the attack, the woman lightly pressed a handkerchief to his mouth with one hand and hovered her other hand over his forehead to alleviate his fever. He willed himself to get up and locate his best friend, but found himself pinned down by the reiatsu radiating from her presence.

"You are in no condition to move," she cautioned placidly, her calm voice and spiritual presence effectively keeping him in place. He felt her concentrate her power on his chest and sighed as the feeling of constriction left his lungs. "You should be much better in a bit. Rest a while."

"But Shunsui…" he protested, flickering his eyes open. Then as quickly as he had opened them, he shut them again. After all, what was the point of trying to see his saviour when his eyes could barely focus? She was kind enough and he could not sense anything menacing about her spiritual presence. Besides, there was something oddly comforting in her voice and the way she smelled – like green tea and bergamot.

"I know, Ukitake-sempai," her voice comforted. After a slight pause, she continued with a certain resignation in her voice as she forcibly popped something in his mouth. "It will soothe your throat. Please, don't move. I sent Aizen-san to fetch Kyoraku sempai and instructed Urahara sempai to clean up Kyoraku sempai's dormitory room. There is nothing to worry about. You must rest. Your last attack left you exhausted."

Ukitake chuckled in spite of his fatigue. This woman (no – lady, he chided himself) must be a remarkable creature if she could compel Urahara Kisuke to undertake domestic chores, he thought with a smile playing at the end of his lips. She had addressed him as sempai. It could be anyone from the first to fifth years. However, since she had called Aizen Sousuke 'san', it indicated that she was at least Aizen's contemporary in the Shinigami Academy. Yes, that narrowed it down – she belonged to academic batch two years after him. She must be a fourth year student. He racked his brains for details of fourth year students, but recalled no one with her particular spiritual presence. He wanted to ask this gentle creature her name, but found himself unable to speak. The capsule she had shoved into his mouth was so cooling to his throat that it prevented him from making a single utterance. Come to think on it, it made him sleepy as well. 'No matter, I will see her when I come to and thank her,' he reminded himself as allowed himself to be lulled to sleep by her gentle massaging of his chest.

Whatever his plans prior to his drug-induced slumber, Ukitake found himself somewhat disappointed that the gentle lady was no longer by his side. In her place, he espied an uncharacteristically sober and anxious Kyoraku Shunsui.

"Oi, Jyuushiro, wakey wakey," exclaimed Kyoraku with forced cheer. "Time for your medication. The nurses' office dropped it off a couple of hours ago. They are never this quick with prescriptions. And Yama-ji popped by just now too after room inspection. The old dog practically wore down the floorboards in your room from pacing. He never gives me that much attention. He even wrote you an exemption from physical activity for a week. Do you think if I say I'm looking after you, will he allow me to skip class for the next few days? Oh, and thanks for arranging everything!"

His friend's ramblings were too much for Ukitake to bear after regaining consciousness, so he sighed with resignation and tried to sit up.

Before he could do so, Kyoraku's large hand propped up his friend's pillows, helped the invalid to a sitting position and handed the bowl of medicinal soup to him. "Take it easy, Jyuu-chan! It's time I looked out for you." A pregnant pause followed when Kyoraku hung his head in shame and went down on his knees. "You sought to take care of everything for me, and cover for me when you knew Yama-ji was coming for inspection. My thoughtless actions aggravated your condition, please forgive me, old friend," he continued with unusual gravity, executing a low bow.

Ukitake raised a brow of faint amusement and stifled a cough. "Shunsui, you know I would never blame you for your personal proclivities." The apologetic student retained his position on the floor. The invalid rolled his eyes. "If you hang your head any lower, it will drag on the floor and you shan't be able to see the pretty girls anymore."

"Yes, you're right!" cried Kyoraku, bounding up to his full height and embracing his friend warmly, his eyes tearing a little. "I must keep a good head on for the ladies. Can't disappoint them, right?"

The friends shared a careless laugh of youth; both glad that the tension had been broken. One secretly relieved that his friend was not on the brink on the death, and the other, touched by his friend's affectionate nature.

However, Ukitake saw it fit to bring the conversation back to the foremost question on his mind. "Speaking of young ladies, Shunsui, where is she?"

"Who?" asked his friend with a twinkle in his eye. "Are you in love now, Jyuu-chan? Who is she? I won't run after her, I promise."

"If I knew that, I wouldn't be asking you," sighed Ukitake with barely concerned disappointment. "I must thank her formally. She saved me when I was en route to that ghastly watering hole you favour. She told me she arranged for Kisuke to tidy your room and Aizen to fetch you."

"You mean you didn't badger Suke-chan to clean my room?" questioned Kyoraku, scratching his stubble.

"Have we ever managed to persuade Urahara to do anything he does not wish to do? He always cajoles us to do what he wants to do – like the time he wanted to test his invention for bringing out the shikai form of our zanpakuto."

"Yare, yare, that was three years ago. However, I recall there was one time… Hang on, you're right! Suke-chan never listens to your words of advice or my pearls of wisdom!" the flamboyant student exclaimed, his chest swelling with mock indignation. "That explains it! Aizen told me that he was accosted – yes, he claimed he was accosted, he told so me laughingly – by his classmate in the premiere class to bring me back to the dormitory because Yama-ji was about to conduct room inspection."

The white haired student waved his hand languidly to signal his knowledge of his saviour's actions. "Yes, she told me she did so. Now, I want you to tell me her name."

"Oh, so it i is /i her." Kyoraku chuckled with a sagely nod as a cheeky smile lit up his features.

"I know that tone, Shunsui. Is she one of your conquests?" sighed the long suffering student.

Kyoraku shook his head with a rakish grin. "Sadly, no. Flirted with her once. She was always by herself reading, practising with her zanpakuto or meditating. Very soft-spoken thing, quiet, observant. Not very pretty, elegant though. Pity she has only a passable figure." He gestured vaguely with his hands to sign that she was not the voluptuous sort, earning him a look of faint amusement from his friend. "She's a slight girl with the longest hair of deepest jet; she used to wear it behind her in a thick plait.

"Used to? You mean she wears it in a bun now?" Ukitake guessed, thinking he had the right the young lady at last.

"You didn't notice her at all, did you? Not surprising since she has a knack for masking her spiritual presence," Kyoraku continued, smiling to himself over something. The story goes that some guy from her class in first year tied it to the chair during their advanced kido channelling lesson. She knew who did it, of course. Between you and me, I think that fellow liked her. Anyhow, she just cast him a look and left him immobilised and breathless as if she was choking him. Since then, she began wearing her braid in front of her. It was an odd style, but made her rather cute so I asked her out for a drink. She only narrowed her eyes at me, thanked me for my offer and quietly told me that gentlemen must be serious with their words. I broke into a cold sweat when she gave me that look. It wasn't even a fierce or intimidating glare. It wasn't even disdainful. It was just an unblinking stare. It was as if…" Kyoraku flailed for the right expression. On finding it, he slapped his friend's shoulder. "It was as if she had momentarily cut off the circulation of blood and oxygen to my body."

"Serves you right, Shunsui. That's what you get for chasing girls indiscriminately, you incorrigible flirt. No wonder she rebuffed you; she must think you're the most determined and most shameless flirt in the Shinigami Academy, nay, Soul Society," chided Ukitake in a teasing tone after he coughed briefly into his sleeve. "You are only supposed to court the one you really fancy."

"So that's it," laughed Kyoraku merrily, wagging a finger at his friend. "You've only noticed her now that she saved your sorry little life."

"I don't even know if it was her," sighed Ukitake, rubbing his forehead.

"Oh, I know it is her. The nurses said that she did a good job of arresting the second wave of attack. It could have killed you, you know."

"Then why didn't she stay? Did I unconsciously do something untoward to her?"

"No, she didn't want me to tell you all this, some crap about you being an aristocrat and her being a nobody. Hell, what should that bother her? Maybe she's secretly ashamed of being a pariah in Soul Society. It's a step down from her social position in the living world. I've never let my disreputable side bother me. In any case, why should it matter? She was a Duke's daughter or something when she was in the living world, she died young from consumption or so the rumours say. Yare, yare, I'm rambling again. Who knows what she thinks? Whatever the reason, she insisted that I tell you nothing about her or how she helped you. But you know we have no secrets, you and I. It's just Unohana Retsu's way. She prefers to be the silent observer. I personally think it's her maidenly modesty. She's just so adorable that way…." A pillow thrown at his face silenced Kyoraku.

Ukitake wrapped his blanket closer around himself, willing himself to recall the gentle warmth of her spiritual presence and the scent of green tea and bergamot. "Please do not wax lyrical on her qualities. I experienced the goodness of her nature myself. Unohana Retsu," he murmured softly. "It suits her. I must send her my thanks. Hand me my brush and paper."

"Can't do that, Jyuu-chan," Kyoraku said firmly. "Then she would know I told you and she would probably freeze my circulation again."

"Oh yes, I have you to consider, haven't I?" replied Ukitake with a weak smile. "What am I to do then?"

"Exactly what she does," laughed the flirtatious student, "observe her."