A/N: It's been quite a long time since I've attempted to write a fanfic, I've spent the last week or so trying to finish a story that I started about 3 years ago (it was my first and only fic so far)… It was my goal to finish that before I posted anything new but this idea came to me this morning and practically wrote itself, so I just *have* to post it.

So for this being my second fic, I hope you enjoy it and find it worthy of your reviews ^.^

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or anything associated with it.

I am at a loss.

I have certainly pushed him beyond the point of confusion.

As I sit here, alone in our office, I quietly contemplate my recent actions. I have even confused myself. It is unbecoming of myself and my position to be confused, I am determined to figure this out.

He comes in from a training session with the squad, slightly dis-shelved but still trying to properly present himself, because he thinks that's what I want him to do. He sits at his desk and leans back in his chair. Momentarily forgetting my presence, he removes his bandana and hair tie to shake his hair out and release the gathered heat. He rubs the bandana across his sweat-drenched chest where his loosened shihakusho allows his toned chest to peek through.

I was once free to behave like him. His loose, wild crimson tresses scream out to me, reminding me that, personality wise, I am only a shadow of my former self. I'm slightly envious of Renji's behavioral freedom so I scoff at his actions. Of course, he takes this the wrong way and quickly situates himself. I silently scold myself for ending the show he was unknowingly putting on for me. I wonder how far the younger male would go in my presence if I could control myself long enough to let him be natural, unrestrained.

This wandering of my mind is a silent torture. I cannot explain it; that only succeeds in making it more difficult to bear. It could have stemmed from envy, I think for a moment before pondering other possibilities. It seems that no matter what he does, no matter how restrained he is, a portion of his true self shines through in everything he does. It makes me wonder if he ever could be fully restrained, not that I want him to be, not anymore.

The hot day drags on slowly, around midafternoon the heat begins to get to Renji again. He discreetly pulls at the collar of his shihakusho in an attempt to loosen the fabric from his flushed upper body. I wish I had the freedom to relieve myself of the wretched heat as he does, but I must set an example. I can see Zabimaru's markings on the now visible part of his chest. I wonder to myself just how far those markings reach, if there is a place they've yet to touch, if there's any part of him to still be claimed.

Images dance through my mind with that thought, fantasies maybe. I can see Renji dressed in a bright yukata, walking through the wild, feral part of the world. Nearing a stream, he allows the yukata to slip from his shoulders and fall to the ground. Renji belongs here, bare, untamed, powerful, like the tiger who rules his jungle. Zabimaru's presence on his body only makes him all the more fitting of this uninhabited place. Though the scenery is beautiful, Renji still manages to stand out. I want to visit this place with him and see him in his natural habitat, watch him as he cools off in the stream.

My own thoughts shock me slightly. I must have done something, made a noise or moved suddenly, because again my visual pleasure is stripped from my view. I find myself wondering if Renji hates me, if he will ever see me as anything more than a statistical goal to surpass. He reminds me so much of my younger self, I would have hated a man that behaves the way I do now.

I used to be very strict with Renji, pointing out all of his mistakes and punishing him for them. Now Renji apologizes before I have the chance to punish him; rarely do I even need to vocalize his mistakes, I just look at him and he knows what he's done. I feel slightly guilty for making him this way, like a trained puppy really. This is why I cannot watch Renji anymore. It is my own fault that he stops his tantalizing actions before I've had my fill.

I cannot help myself any longer. A small stack of paperwork as my excuse, I rise from my seat and walk over to his desk. Standing behind him, I place the papers beside him. My position requires me to lean close to him; I can smell his natural scent that is unique to him. I then realize that I lingered just a moment too long; Renji is frozen in place, afraid to move.

As I return to standing, pulling my hand back, I brush my fingers lightly across his bandana that is still draped over the back of his chair. He sighs slightly once I'm fully standing, relieved to be rid of me. My curiosity peaks as I feel the hidden print on the inside of the cloth. I cannot ask him about it, that would make my hidden desires clear. Instead I return to my own desk, a plan already forming in the back of my mind.