Stairs

You've never been in an elevator before and, though it seems silly, you are set in your ways. You prefer not to meddle with the curious technology that has consumed the life of humans and made them lazy. Without a word, you search for the door that obviously leads to the stairs, which you expect is nearby, and approach it, a sign for Hanatarou to pick up the pace a lead the way.

The seventh seat doesn't hesitate and hurries to hold the door open for you, which you do without so much as a glance at him and proceed to climb the stairs. You have no idea how far up you need to go, but there isn't time to worry about that. Rather, you find yourself watching over your shoulder at the clumsy squad four officer as he tries to keep up with you. Unohana really does need to buckle down on making them more useful...

You know its coming before it happens--it was inevitable. On pure instinct, you twist, reach out, grab him and use shunpo so you yourself don't lose your balance as he trips on that step that seemed uneven, even to you. You've climbed a few flights of stairs and that would have been a rather painful and useless way to get hurt.

It seems strange to him that he's cradled against your chest, but you didn't need to think twice before reacting. It happened with or without your conscious thought and there is no reason to question it. You don't have the time or will to care about it.

But Hanatarou flushes, grasps at your shirt, face glowing bright red. "I-I'm sorry..."

You don't have any words of consolation for him. You aren't here to comfort him, to reassure him of anything. If he was a bit more careful, then he'd never have lost his balance in the first place. It is his own fault that he got into such a mess and, even if it was someone like Rukia, you would react the same. Reassuring someone of their faults is senseless. If one wants to get over them, then they must work at it, not be encouraged that it's all right to possess them.

It's how you learned and, for a moment, you hesitate. Why? There's no reason. When you forget about the things that brought you here, you can only feel the weight against you, that comforting warmth, that encouraging weight that feels right and yet so wrong.

"Kuchiki-taichou...?" That hesitant hand that's tended to your injuries in the past reaches up, that warmth spreading, the contact points increasing and the young shinigami adjusts himself. "Is something the matter, Kuchiki-taichou?"

"It's nothing." An automatic response. It's always been fool-proof. No one dares to ask further when you deny them the answer, even when you yourself can't deny the feelings twisting in your stomach.

Hanatarou looks away before he seems to summon up something akin to courage and leans up, pressing a small, hesitant but meaningful kiss to your lips. "It's okay."

You have no idea what he's talking about and you consider your options--putting him down and heading back the way you came, returning his affections, or pretending it never happened. They all seem to hold equal weight in your mind.