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The first time Shunsui began to notice his hair going grey was shortly after he’d been promoted to Head Captain. Although not a vain man by any means, the sight had caused him distress. Shinigami aged differently than the living did, but they still aged nonetheless. Shunsui had stopped counting birthdays long ago, he’d never pass up the opportunity to party, but counting the years had become more depressing then celebratory long ago. Even though he hadn’t noticed his own physical aging, he had noticed it in those around him. Nanao, Ichigo, and many others had grown from children to men and women in what seemed like the blink of an eye, but when the grey appeared at his temples he was confronted with the reality of how old he really was.
Naturally he had turned to Jūshirō, and he’d dropped by Ugendō late one evening; long after most had finished the work day, but very soon after he’d finished his own.
He let himself in. There was no reason to bother knocking, it was a formality that was wasted on their centuries of friendship. Shunsui could hear the bath running, so he busied himself with making tea, and even found it within him to wash the few plates that had been left in the sink. He didn’t doubt that Ukitake could afford to hire servants for the estate, he just preferred not to.
Shunsui set the tea down on one of the table near the heater. The weather was beginning to shift from late autumn into winter, and although it wasn’t overly cold out yet, Ukitake seldom took chances when it came to his health. He sat back against the wall next to the heater, absently sipping his tea as he listened to the near-silence inside Ugendō. The First division was always loud, always busy, and sitting in the silence brought peace to Shunsui the likes of which he hadn’t experienced in what seemed like forever.
Shunsui was awoken by the sound of Ukitake sitting down next to him against the wall. Jūshirō’s long white hair was still mostly damp, and water dripped off the ends onto his clothes, being soaked into the fabric.
“I fell asleep,” Shunsui noted lamely.
Jūshirō nodded slowly, but said nothing as he filled his tea cup and took a small sip.
“I feel old, Ukitake.”
Jūshirō chuckled softly, “We are old, Kyōraku.”
“We’ve been old for hundreds of years, but I’ve never felt old before.”
Jūshirō turned his head to look at his friend appreciatively, absently reaching up and touching the grey hairs on Shunsui’s temple.
“You know,” Jūshirō started, “having grey hair is really not as bad as it sounds.”
Shunsui smirked, “I don’t think I could pull it off the same as you can.”
Jūshirō shrugged. “I don’t know – I’ve heard that some women enjoy men who have a touch of grey in their hair. It’s a sign of maturity and experience.”
Shunsui smiled ruefully before letting his head drop back against the wall, squeezing his eyes shut.
“I’m so tired,” he said hoarsely.
“You’ve lost weight,” Jūshirō acknowledged.
“No time to eat,” Shunsui mumbled.
Jūshirō frowned, “Genryūsai-sensei gave this job to you because he knew you could handle it, Kyōraku. Things will balance and you’ll find how to best manage these responsibilities, but even now you have to find some time to yourself.”
“Yama-jii should have given the job to you...you could do this better than I can.”
Jūshirō arched an eyebrow and make a sound of disagreement. “We both know why Genryūsai didn’t chose me for the job-”
“I could die too, you know,” Shunsui interrupted. “There are no guarantees that I’ll survive this war.”
Jūshirō elbowed Shunsui lightly. “Don’t speak like that, Kyōraku. Do you remember when we first became captains? We both thought we were in over our heads, and now look at us. It will come.”
Shunsui tilted his head towards Jūshirō and opened his eyes. Ukitake’s face was passive…neutral. His best friend had always had a knack for listening to whatever problems he had but in an impersonal way, without letting emotion cloud his judgment.
“You really think women will find the grey attractive?”
Jūshirō laughed in a loud, short burst. “Some women, yes.”
Shunsui nodded slowly before closing his eyes again. Within moments, Shunsui’s head had come to rest on Jūshirō’s shoulder, making the sickly captain smile. Shunsui had a habit of disguising his true concerns within mediocre concerns. Jūshirō had no doubt that a small part of Shunsui was genuinely concerned about no longer being attractive to women – not that he had many women throwing themselves at him now – but it definitely wasn’t his main concern. Jūshirō was glad that Shunsui had come to speak to him. He’d noticed that something was wrong with his friend days ago, but any time they had to spare for each other was limited, and Shunsui looked so tired that Jūshirō wanted his friend to rest whenever he could.
Shunsui’s deep breathing told Jūshirō that Shunsui had indeed fallen asleep on his shoulder, but he didn’t mind. The heater made the space comfortable, and there was still some tea left in the pot for him. Sooner than he would like, Jūshirō would have to wake Shunsui up, and their moment of peace would be broken. However, that time was still yet to come, and until then Jūshirō intended to enjoy the peace.