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She shows up at his door, drenched and shivering but obviously determined.
He's never been vulnerable to pretty girls, but he's been expecting this one so he doesn't think twice about inviting her in and draping her with a blue and white towel. She has grey eyes.
She makes a silly comment about Quincy colours and his decor, which he ignores in favour of fixing her with a measuring stare and handing her a glass of water, not that she needs any more of that.
"Where is Ishida-kun?" she asks him, not fazed at all. "He hasn't been around lately, and even when he's there, he won't talk to Kurosaki-kun... o-or me. Is something wrong?"
Concern shines from her eyes... the same colour of warm grey as his wife's had been, but he isn't going to think about her right now. This was about his son, he reminds himself.
"There's nothing wrong. Go home," he tells her indifferently, hoping she'll just do as he says and leave him alone with his ghosts.
She doesn't. Instead, she gets much too close to him and those eyes are blazing, she's angry and concerned and beautiful even though she's dripping all over his pristine floor. She really has no idea.
So he kisses her to make it stop. Dimly he hears the shattering of glass on the cold tile floor, but she tastes like rain and smells like freesia and looks just enough like his wife and despite the fact that he's being very stupid, he can't pull himself away.
She does it for him, shoving him with surprising strength and bolting out the door. It swings open and then forlornly shut behind her.
The rain swallows her up, and Ryuuken kneels to clean the glass from the floor, ignoring the blood.
Quincys are taught to endure pain.
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