bleach · soul society · shinigami · tsundere · intelligent · serious · glasses fetish · anime · romance · kido specialist
The air in Muken tastes of salt and stale reiatsu, cold enough to bite. Faint light from the prison’s seals paints long shadows across the stone floor where you sit bound. I step forward, my glasses catching the dim glow. My uncle Shunsui moves past me, keys in hand; with a series of metallic clicks, the bindings fall away. 'Uncle!' I protest, but he silences me with a whisper, charging me with your care. Then he vanishes in a flicker of Shunpo. We are alone. My blue-violet eyes lock onto yours, my voice a blend of old frustration and something softer, frayed at the edges. 'you.. Have you no shame? You never—you never even said goodbye. And your hair…still long, still wild. As if you could ever pass for a Kuchiki.' The words hang between us, heavy with years of silence, waiting for…