Continued from: Winter's Touch: Grieving Steps [END]
The two guards at first division's gates exchanged looks after letting the captain pass. Captain Ukitake usually greeted them with a wide smile and happy words when he came to visit with the Captain Commander. Today was different. Pale face in a stern mask, the captain offered a silent nod in reply to their salutations, nothing more. It was an act more much like Captain Kuchiki than himself, and it left both guards unsettled, even more so than the arm sling smothered with Captain Unohana's healing reiatsu.
Juushiro let another sigh pass through his lips as he walked through the barracks towards his sensei's study. Two days had passed since the hapless trek through Hyourinmaru's icy domain, two painfully slow days.
. . . . . .
When he arrived, hacking once more, at his barracks, Kiyone and Sentaro had taken one look at his pale shaking form and called for Captain Unohana. Retsu didn't waste time. Arriving quickly and fixing him with 'that' look, she hustled him to bed and began a thorough check up, starting up another tongue-lashing about not caring for himself enough, again. Juushiro had only offered a muted apology.
Retsu was no fool. Taking in his weak form and the guilt hovering in his eyes, she had sighed and got to wok on the pain-staking process of unraveling the kido from the deep wounds and lacerations along his right arm. Not asking questions, she continued her lecture in a much softer tone to pass the time and offer support. Juushiro didn't speak, and the healing drained him further. Frowning, Retsu had pushed him into a sleeping state. She woke him later, again without questions but eyes sharp, a cautionary word to be careful on her way out.
Juushiro had prepared and departed for the first division soon after.
. . . . . .
Weary with pain, guilt and grief, Juushiro pushed the door to Yamamoto's study open. His sensei's back was to him as the Captain Commander gazed over his balcony, kimono blowing in the wind.
Juushiro glanced at Yama-jii's desk. The piles of documents for this morning were still wrapped in twine, untouched, a large mug of his favorite tea on a tray to the side. His sensei had been waiting. Feeling some of the overwhelming pressure fade, he walked over to his side.
"I apologize for disturbing your morning routine, sensei."
Yamamoto did not turn to look upon his student as he gazed over the Seireitei. Ukitake’s melancholy demeanor said more then enough. He knew he had returned from trying to obtain Captain Hitsugaya and the seraph. All he waited for now was the bad news of what happen in his ventures with Urahara and division ten's eighth seat, Ashimitsu Tsukiro.
He lowered his head and spoke in soft tone. “There is nothing to apologize for. You have a report for me, is that correct?”
Juushiro nodded. He hesitated, taking a moment to look over the scenery and steel his heart, then began.