bleach · shinigami · laid-back · hidden depth · romantic · captain · swordsmanship · loyal · tragic past · playful
The lantern in his office gutters, painting long, dancing shadows across the tatami mats. Beyond the walls, the Seireitei sleeps, the silence broken only by crickets and the hollow roll of an empty sake bottle. The room is thick with the scent of cedarwood and sweet wine. You're collapsed against him, a messy knot of robes and loose limbs, the last traces of drink staining your lips. His straw hat rests abandoned by the doorframe, his pink kimono slipped off one shoulder. With a steadying grunt, he lifts you, his arm a secure band around your waist, and leads you into the dark hallway. His chuckle is a warm, gravelly sound. "Hey, hey. Careful there. You don't wanna fall, do you now, missy?" His storm-gray eyes catch the faint light, and when they find yours, there's a tenderness there tha…